Seven Years
by ASWhite
Summary: The longest Lupin fanfic in the entire world. I retell the entire HP series, from book 1 to 7, from Lupin's point of view. The story is canon but includes what Lupin gets up to when he's not present in the books, including his friendship with Sirius, falling for Tonks and adventures with other werewolves. Updates are sadly fairly infrequent, but I'm determined to finish.
1. Impressions Of A Traitor

Author's introduction:

Welcome to the longest Lupin fanfic in the world. As this story has gotten so long I thought I'd insert a little introduction here to summarise the plot.

The story follows the main story arc of the HP series from book 1 to book 7 (although I kind of skip book 2), but describes the events from Lupin's point of view and explains what happens to him when he's not present in the books. For instance, for most of book 1 and 2 Lupin lives with his mother in Ireland, in book 4 he helps Sirius break into number 12 Grimmauld Place and makes en enemy of a vampire, in book 5 he invents spells for the order, meets a pack of werewolves and falls in love with Tonks. We are on book 5 at the moment. Book 6 and 7 will describe how the war escalates and all the tragedies it brings and Lupin will face some very difficult challenges.

The story as expected explores a lot of themes, including friendship, love, depression, grief, disability and prejudice. I hope I do each of these complicated issues justice. I also hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Disclaimer: The character names, places and spells that you recognise belong to JK, as well as some of the dialogue.

Seven Years

He winked at me, a cheeky grin spread across his face and mischief in his eyes, as if he knew a secret I didn't. Then he laughed. James was never very good at keeping secrets. The man standing next to him was though. My insides coiled into tight angry knots and my face felt tense with a bitter scowl. The last ten years were all his fault. Those horrible wretched god forsaken years! It was his fault they were dead! His fault I was alone! His fault Harry was starting Hogwarts having never known his parents. Rage overtook me. I threw the box of photos off my lap and stood up. With the photo of James and the traitor in my hand I walked towards the window. Under the summer light that filtered through the window, the faces of the two young men seems to glow in an unearthly manner. They looked so happy and so like brothers. And to think, this was taken just a year before the one would kill the other.

I pulled out my wand and pointed it at Sirius's face.

"_Incendio_." I hissed and I burnt our the traitor's face. Once Sirius was reduced to an ashy hole, James looking on in surprise, I let the photo fall to the floor. I didn't feel any better. For no matter how much I hated him for taking everything I loved away from me, I still missed him. I missed the man I thought he was. The kind and witty man I used to consider my greatest friend. Even now I still found it hard to believe he had been an informant to Voldemort all that time.

My mind didn't want to accept it. Sirius loved James! He loved us all. Of all the order, I suspected Sirius the least. Even Moody, who trusted no-one, was more convinced the traitor was me than Sirius. From an objective viewpoint, I was a much more likely suspect. Alone, bitter, poor and a werewolf. I'm surprised more of the Order didn't accuse me.

With a long sigh I began to pick up the photographs and put them back. Hagrid had asked me for some pictures of James and Lilly to give Harry as a birthday present. I had selected some of the best ones. Being the photographer I wasn't in most of them but Sirius had managed to leap into almost all, usually to James and Lilly's amusement. While I hated having my picture taken, Sirius loved it. I tried not to include photos with Sirius in the selection to send to Harry, but some of the best photos of Lilly and James were marred by the traitors face. Like the one of their wedding. I picked the photo in question from the pile. James and Lily were looking at each other with matching smiles. They looked so very much in love, so mutually obsessed with each other. And Sirius was standing next to them looking at me. He had a similar smile. So full of love. I hated him, yes. But I also missed him.

With the photos in my hand, I walked downstairs to the kitchen where my owl was on her perch having a little snooze.

"Artimis?" I said gently. The owl woke with a soft hoot then flew to my shoulder. She nipped my ear while holding out a foot for me to attach the photographs. She was such a friendly owl, which was unusual for a short eared owl, but I had had her since she was a owlet, having found her abandoned, and hand reared her, so she was very attached to me. I tied the letter to her foot and she shifted down to my forearm and waited for me to tell her where to go. I walked to the window with the owl on my arm.

"Take these to Hagrid would you Artimis." I told her before she flew out of the window to deliver the photos, leaving me alone in my dismal dreary dwelling. I turned around to look at the kitchen. God, it was a mess. I hadn't felt like cleaning for a while. Nor cooking, judging from the amount of take-away boxes that littered the room. If an untidy kitchen wasn't evidence that I was not myself, then take-away food was. I loved cooking – well, I used to – and hated fast food. Plus I couldn't afford it. I groaned at the thought of money. I was so deep in debt moving to a muggle flat and getting a muggle job seemed my only option. No wizard would hire me. They gave all sorts of reasons why: I wasn't what they were looking for, I didn't have enough experience, blah blah blah. I knew the real reason. I could see it in their faces when it came to the bit in the form where you have to declare any health problems. Their eyes scanned the section and their cheeks paled. Then, no matter what they had previously thought of me, they looked at me as if I was about to jump across the desk and bite them there and then.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose to try and numb the stinging that had just began in my eyes. I couldn't seem to pull myself together today. Ever since I got the letter from Hagrid about Harry. Poor Harry... Tidal waves of guilt hit me. I had never visited him. I wrote to his aunt and uncle once, asking if I could. They sent a rather curt letter back, more or less, telling me to shove off. So I obeyed their wishes. But that wasn't the _real_ reason I didn't visit. The real reason was because I knew Harry would remind me of everything I had lost. And I couldn't bare it.

I sat down at my kitchen table feeling altogether overwhelmed. I didn't often feel this defeated, this hopeless, this utterly alone. I didn't let myself. But today...today I didn't have the energy to fight it off. Today I wished I were a better potion maker so that I could brew some eternal sleep. Yes, I said it. I know it's pathetic, I know it's cowardly. But I can't help it. That's just how I feel today.

The sound of a fist hammering on my front door jerked me from my morbid contemplations (thank God!). I desperately hoped it wasn't the landlord. I was ridiculously behind on my rent, and there are only so many times you can say 'I'll have it by next week' before someone realises you're lying. Maybe it was Dung come to ask me out for a drink – or try and sell me something. Maybe it was Heather from across the hall come to ask for some sugar – literally if I'm being realistic, euphemistically if I'm being hopeful. Maybe it was Professor Hawthorne come to offer me my job back. Maybe it was Sirius escaped form Azkaban come to tell me that he was innocent and it was all a huge misunderstanding. Maybe it was Dumbledore to ask me to teach at the school. Maybe it was Archibald Asclepius with a cure for lycanthropy.

The hammering continued. Then I heard my landlord's voice.

"Come on Lupin, it's been three months!" He yelled. I contemplated how immoral it would be to _obliviate_ my landlord, and then whether I'd get caught.


	2. Leaving The Dreaming Spires

Bit longer this time, and less morbid.

Sorry about mistakes, it's been a long time since I read any of the books so forgive me if I get some details wrong – I'll try to make sure I check them before I post.

To be clear, the time line of this story is the same as that which runs through the Harry Potter series. So right now, it is September 1991 (I think) just as Harry is starting Hogwarts. I will probably skip some years because I don't want it to be too long.

Disclaimer: All characters, spells etc are JK's. The stuff about Oxford is mine :)

Chapter 2

Once I had managed to placate my angry and impatient landlord I set to tidying my apartment. It didn't take that long: I was quite good at household spells and my apartment was small. Two rooms on the top floor of an Edwardian town house and an attic bedroom were what constituted my home. I lived in Oxford, because I had, up until three weeks ago, been working for the university. Oxford is a muggle town, and the university is a muggle university – mainly. Unbeknown to people outside the university, a small part of the humanities devision is devoted to studying magic. The faculty of supernatural science, as it is called, is run by wizards and muggles, and is probably the only academic institute in the country devoted to finding out what exactly magic is, why only some people have magical ability, and the moral consequences of all this. It is a fascinating and important area of study, so I was delighted, no – ecstatic, when Professor Hawthorne, a muggle who supervises the metaphysics of magic research accepted my application.

I had never really known what I wanted to do with my life, when I was a teenager I wanted to be an auror, mostly because that's what James and Sirius wanted to do – but failing to get onto NEWT potions put an end to that 'dream'. Then I thought about being a healer, but as McGonagall correctly pointed out, patients would never trust a werewolf to be their healer. And when I left school, despite the fact I had nearly perfect grades, there were very few career options open to me. I couldn't work for the ministry, because firstly they would never hire someone like me, and secondly because they are bigoted bureaucratic morons whom I would be loathe to work for. The only thing left that appealed to me was academia. And, actually, I don't know why it wasn't my first choice.

When professor Hawthorne asked me to work for him, it was like a dream come true. A scholar at oxford! What could be more perfect? (Well maybe teaching at Hogwarts – another dream of mine.) And for the six months I was working for him, I almost forgot that I was poor and lonely. That stuff didn't seem to matter any more. All that mattered was the work. So when I got the sack, it was like my whole world cracked in two. I'm being a bit melodramatic I know, but that's how it felt. My work was all I had. Without it, I was just a friendless, penniless half-human.

I was fired was because the university introduced some ridiculous new policy that forbade them from employing people of my condition. Apparently, due to the confidential and important nature of some of the work the faculty of supernatural science does, they couldn't risk allowing someone like me to have access to it. Professor Hawthone had apparently defended me when his superiors told him he had to fire me, but he lost in the end and had to let me go. I, uncharacteristically, flew into a uncontrollable fit of rage at the news. Ranting about the unfairness of it all. Which, in hindsight was probably not the best thing to have done, and might have been the reason the university rejected my appeal. But I couldn't help it: I loved that job!

Without work and money I doubted I would be able to live in Oxford for much longer. Which was depressing in itself because Oxford is a lovely, strange and exciting town. The colleges give it a masculine beauty, and a sense of importance and grandeur. Walking through the parks and especially along the canal is always so calming and so inspiring, even on the dullest of days. I have felt my most content sitting by the river with a book, the summer sun on my back. Oxford is a world in itself. It has it's own way of doing everything. It's flea markets sell such strange objects, I know I would never see in any other town. You would never see people wearing tweed and talking about Plato whilst punting on the river anywhere else. You would never see people eating ice cream at midnight in December any where else. You would never see festivals held on a saturday for no reason at all other than it is May anywhere else. Yes, leaving Oxford would be sad.

I would probably have to move back home. I guess that was no bad thing. Since my father died my mother has been living alone, and really didn't seem to cope well with it, so at least I would be able to look after her.

I sighed and looked at the books that were piled in my living room. I didn't have much use for books on philosophy now. I decided to take them to Diagon Ally to see if I could sell them to Obscurus Books, as I knew they had a large second hand section. Maybe I'll be able to pick up a book on counter-curses while I was there – I needed to brush up on my defence against the dark arts. I charmed a leather satchel so that it would hold more than it's size implied and put the books I intended to sell inside, then I walked to my fireplace and flooed to Diagon Ally making a mental note to pick up some more floo power on the way.

I arrived at The Leaky Cauldron and decided to have a drink before I carried out my errands. I was just about to lean against the bar to try and grab the landlord Tom's attention when I spotted a face I recognised. It was a very beautiful face, if a little austere and well, a bit frightening. She hadn't spotted me yet. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to, so I stayed silent rather than call out her name. She looked thinner and paler than when I last saw her. She brushed her dark brown hair behind her ear and adjusted the strap of her leather shoulder bag. Then she began to look my way. I looked towards the bar and acted like I hadn't seen her.

"Remus!" She called out. I turned to her and smiled.

"Andromeda." I said. She walked towards me with a smile that looked somehow out of place on her face, as if she hadn't smiled in a long time and couldn't quite remember how to do it. When she reached me, to my surprise, she put her arms around my shoulders and hugged me. I wasn't quite sure how to respond to such a display of affection. I didn't know Andromeda Tonks all that well. I had met her though Sirius who used to drag me, and sometimes James and Peter, with him when he visited his favourite cousin. When James and Lily died, and Sirius went to Azkaban, although I had promised otherwise, I lost touch with Andromeda and Ted and their little daughter. It wasn't until about a year ago, after I bumped into Andromeda by chance, that we started talking again. We got on fairly well, but I definitely wouldn't have thought we were on hugging terms. I didn't want to hug her back exactly, so I settled for patting her back gently. When she pulled back her eyes were glassy.

"What has happened?" I asked automatically. She rubbed her eyes and then fiddled with the straps of her shoulder bag.

"Er, nothing really..." she began, then she looked up at me, her dark eyes catching mine, "it was my sister's trial today..."

"Oh." I said. Andromeda didn't need to say more. Her sister, Bellatrix Lestrange, was a death eater charged with, among other things, torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom to madness. Sharing genes with such a heartless cruel woman would be enough to reduce anyone to tears. But what was worse for Andromeda was that her whole family sided with Bellatrix, leaving Andromeda alone.

"Remember you have Ted, and your daughter." I said quietly. Andromeda nodded and blinked back her tears.

"And who do you have?" She asked with a wry, but at the same time, quite motherly smile. I laughed without mirth, and didn't answer her question. Andromeda caught Tom's eye and ordered two firewhiskeys.

"A bit early in the day, isn't it?" I said, but I didn't turn away the drink. Andromeda grinned and chinked her glass against mine before taking a swig. We had a small argument about who should pay before Tom settled the matter by declaring that they were on the house.

"You both look like you need it." He had said, and Andromeda and I had laughed in spite of ourselves.

"Nymphadora is training to be an auror." Andromeda told me.

"Really?" I said, trying to remember what Nymphadora looked like, "how is she finding it?"

"She's loving it." Andromeda said, as the memory of a slightly boyish looking toddler with pink hair formed in my mind, "it's me who's tearing my hair out about it. Why did she have to choose such a dangerous career? I worry enough about her already."

"Who is her trainer?"

"Alastor Moody."

"Oh well you have nothing to worry about then!" I said, draining my glass. "Moody is an excellent auror, and if he has chosen Nymphadora as his apprentice, it can only mean she is very talented. Moody only trains the best."

"It's always the best swimmers who drown..." Andromeda said morbidly finishing her own glass, "Do you want to see a picture of her? You've probably not seen her since she was in nappies."

"Yes, alright." I said and Andromeda opened her purse and took out a small photograph from one of the little pockets in it. She handed me the picture and I was surprised to see a grown woman looking out at me. Nothing of the toddler I remembered remained – well except for the pink hair. Nymphadora was every bit as beautiful as her mother, but in a much gentler way. As I looked at the young witch who was twiddling with her earrings and winking at me, I felt a slight jolt in the pit of my stomach. Had I been ten years younger Nymphadora would have been just my type.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" Andromeda said proudly.

"Yes." I agreed.

"Though, I wish she would wear her hair a little longer,"Andromeda said taking the photograph back, "it looks so boyish short like that."

"I think is suits her." I remarked, hoping I hadn't given too much away.

"What are you doing this evening? Why don't you come over and have dinner with Ted and I? With Dora moved out, the house is very quiet." Andromeda said.

"Oh no, I couldn't." I replied.

"You must. You are looking terribly thin." Andromeda insisted. I argued some more, but it was very difficult to argue with Andromeda. She was a Black after all. And just like I never managed to say no to Sirius at school, I found I couldn't say no to his older cousin. So, after I'd done my shopping, I was to be 'fattened up' by Andromeda Tonks. I was in actuality, quite glad to go. It had been a while since I had had a proper meal, and even longer since I had had someone to eat it with. But I couldn't help feeling I would have been more keen to go had Andromeda's not-so-little daughter been there too.


	3. My Existence Is A Scandal

Sorry I've taken a while to update, there's not a lot going on in Lupin's life at the moment so I found it difficult to find things to write about. I have got a rough plot in mind now though.

Disclaimer: Lupin, Dung and Flitwick belong to JK. I made up the Aperi spell; it means open in Latin I think.

Chapter 3

Why was I always attracted to unattainable women?

"I can help you if you like?" Heather said tilting her oval-shaped face to one side and fiddling with the sleeve of her silky purple robes. "Dom is here tomorrow so he could help too." In my head I growled. A very wolfish growl. Dom was The Boyfriend.

Actually that was a stupid question. I know why I am always attracted to women I can't have. James very astutely pointed it out to me when I was twenty three. I only want women I can't have because that way I can never make a move and hence can never be rejected, so it's a twisted act of self preservation because I am pathologically afraid of rejection. What James didn't realise is that I'm equally afraid of acceptance. I am a werewolf. We don't do relationships.

Heather pulled back her long caramel coloured hair an held it at the back of her head as if she were about to tie it in a pony tail, but she didn't, she just held it there showing off her perfectly feminine cheek bones.

"Well I actually have a friend coming to help," I began, then I remembered the friend was Mundungus Fletcher – or Dung as he was 'affectionately' called. Dung was the sort of man you would place after Judas Iscariot in a list of people you'd trust with your secrets. "On second thought, maybe you could help. The friend in question is typically unreliable and may not show up."

Heather smiled and let her hair fall down again.

"Alright, what time shall I come over?" She asked, her blue eyes sparking at me.

"About tenish?" I said, "I have to leave by five you see, otherwise I wont get to the ferry in time."

"A what? A fairy? Like a leprechaun?" Heather asked her face distorted into a (very cute) look of befuddlement.

"A ferry. It's a big muggle boat." I explained demonstrating what a 'big muggle boat' looked like by tracing one out in the air, looking like a complete prat in the process. I had deliberated over how I should travel to Strabane in Northern Ireland, which is where where my mother lives, for quite some time. I couldn't apparate with all my luggage, and I couldn't floo there for the same reason. The night bus didn't cross the sea and I couldn't use a portkey because my mother lived in a muggle village and it might be a bit strange for them to see a tatty old wizard appearing out of nowhere clutching suitcases full of spellbooks. So I had decided to borrow Dung's car – which I had to pay for! Dung used to live quite near me when I was young, which is actually how I knew him, so he would come and collect his car next time he was visiting home.

"Oh I see." Heather said, smiling sweetly at me. "Okay, Dom and I will pop over at ten." I nodded at her, male hormones seeming to forbid my brain from thinking of anything clever to say. Heather turned and headed towards her flat across the hall and I flicked my wand at the lock of my door then pushed the door open. Just before I stepped into my home Heather called my name.

"Yes, Heather?" I said.

"Do you have a dog?" She asked. My mind jerked into self-defence mode.

"A dog?" I said, stalling for time while I thought of a suitable cover-story.

"Yeah, I heard like, howling the other night," Heather said blushing ever so slightly – perhaps because she was worried she had been hearing things, perhaps because on some level she knew - "and well, I wondered if you had a dog."

"No, I don't have one," I said, not wanting to lie, "I was looking after a friends dog while he went away," I added, not wanting to tell the truth. Heather looked relieved, or at least I thought she did, then she returned to her apartment and I returned to mine.

It was only seven, but it was already getting dark. Summer had ended too quickly. I went to the kitchen to make myself some tea and Artimis flew in through the window to her perch.

"No post for me then?" I said. Artimis hooted sympathetically. I got a mug and plonked it on the surface. Then I picked up the kettle and carried it to the sink to fill it, but I couldn't get the bloody lid off. The stupid thing must have expanded or something, and no amount of strength would budge it. I was already feeling the harbingers of a bad mood, and the kettle's crusade against my having a nice comforting cup of tea was doing nothing to help. After some aggravated tugging of the kettle lid, I set the kettle down and picked up my wand. I pointed it menacingly at the kettle.

"_Aperi_." I said. Sadly my ill mood meant I cast the spell with more vigour than I intended. The kettle hissed for a few seconds, then shattered into a dozen pieces. I sighed and looked around my empty apartment. With no job, I was sickeningly bored. Normally I would happily spend my evening reading or listening to music. But that's all I did all day, it was beginning to get monotonous.

"Screw this, I'm going to the pub."

I apparated to the ally at the back of the little cinema in Jericho. It was a bit risky apparating as it was right in the middle of a muggle heavy area, but I wasn't really in a precautionary mood. I walked out of the ally and then turned right away from the busy street on the left. I could hear the sound of young people, students mostly, laughing an talking with their friends in the many restaurants and pubs that decorated this part of town. I did feel a bit jealous. I soon came to a tall narrow victorian building that was squished uncomfortably between two nineteen-sixties bungalows. The building was dark and tatty, but each window was alight with a warm orange glow. Above the door was an old sign which had written across it, in multicoloured letters, 'The one-eyed Goose', and then there was a little picture of a grumpy looking goose with an eye-patch. I walked into the pub and surveyed Oxford's delightfully eccentric wizarding community.

Warlocks and sorcerers sat around mismatched wooden tables drinking butterbear and whiskey while talking about new potions and spells, their work, their husbands and wives and children and all sorts of other things. I navigated my way through the pointed hats and clinking glasses to the bar. A plump witch with black hair streaked with purple was stood behind the bar talking to a small bearded wizard with a squeaky voice.

"How are things at Hogwarts?" The landlady asked.

"They are good." The wizard replied excitedly. "Harry Potter has just started his first year! Very exciting."

"Oh I say, Harry Potter!" The witch remarked her eyes lighting up. "You'll have to tell me all about it Filius, let my just serve this gentleman here." She added turning her purple eyes towards me. Something clicked in my brain: Filius? Filius Flitwick?

"Of course, of course," Flitwick said amiably, "I wouldn't mind another cherry syrup and soda when you've got the time m'dear." Then Flitwick turned to me.

"Goodness!" He cried, a large friendly grin spread across his pointed face. "It's mister Lupin isn't it?" I smiled in greeting.

"It is. How are you professor?" I said pleasantly.

"Oh, call me Filius, you are not my student anymore." Flitwick said. "I'm doing very well, thank you. What about yourself? What brings you to Oxford?"

"I have been living here for just over six months actually." I explained sitting on the stool next to Flitwick. "I was working for the university."

"Was?" Said Flitwick his voice a little squeakier.

"Yes. Sadly my services were no longer required." I said trying to not to sound bitter.

"Oh that is ill news." Remarked Flitwick. "Still, I'm sure you'll get another job in no time. I remember you were excellent at charms, top of the class!" I gave him a thankful smile, and wondered perhaps if he had forgotten about my affliction.

"What'll it be then?" The landlady asked as she used her wand to curl her hair.

"Have you got any slow gin?" I asked, though I knew she did have some: her husband, a short bumbling sort of fellow, had been boasting about his homemade slow gin as I walked in.

"I do indeed! I just go fetch you some." She said before she trotted off towards a larder at the back.

"So how is Harry doing at Hogwarts? Settling in alright?" I asked Flitwick.

"I believe so, he's a bright boy. Looks just like his father, but has his mother's kind temperament." Flitwick told me. I felt both happy and sad at the news. I was pleased Harry was getting on well and was happy, but hearing of him reminded me just how much I missed his parents.

"He's got a mischievous side too though!" Flitwick added his eyes sparkling. "He's frequently fooling around with the Weasley's latest. Charming family the Weasleys..." I began to drift off...I had forgotten how much Flitwick liked to talk. The landlady returned with my gin and I took a big gulp of it. It was sharp but sweet at the same time, and was exactly what I needed.

Okay, okay, I know it probably wasn't the most sensible thing to do, but when you've got no friends and no prospects, getting drunk on homemade gin seems very logical. And, although my memory is a little hazy, I think I enjoyed giggling with Flitwick about my time at school, trying in vain to get the landlady (don't remember her name) interested in metaphysics, moaning to a strange hooded figure about how lonely I am (I think he was a vampire, he did say something about biting me if I didn't stop whining), and then stumbling back home, hiccoughing and humming to myself along the way. So maybe the horrendous hangover I woke up with was worth it. I massaged my temples and groaned. Suddenly a horrible buzzing pieced my eardrums and caused my already aching head to start throbbing with pain. It took me a good few minutes to realise the sound was my doorbell. My eyes widened and I grabbed my alarm clock. It was ten fifteen. I turned my head to look at myself in the mirror that stood to one side of my bed. I looked terrible. My hair seemed to have forgotten that there was such a thing as gravity, my eyes were pink and my skin was grey. I was naked apart from a pair of grey socks that had seen better days. The door bell buzzed again. I got up from my bed and made towards the trousers that were lying carelessly on the wicker chair. But before I had taken three steps I caught my foot in a shirt, which had been left on the floor from last night, and fell face first to the floor with a noisy 'gurrumph'.

As I lay still, my feet tangled in my shirt, my nose pressed into the carpet and my bare backside getting cold in the autumn air, listening to the sound of Heather's voice calling me, I decided that no, it hadn't been worth it.


	4. The Trouble With Being Bookish

Okay, this chapter is a little bit rubbish. Writer's block and all that. But, good news, I know where the story is going, and the plot will pick up a bit as soon as Remus moves back to Ireland. I'm still only on book 1 now and Remus's story, as you know, doesn't really get exciting until book 3.

Anyway, could I have a show of hands as to who is reading this? A full review is not necessary, just so I know there are people who want me to continue. I'll try and make the next instalment a bit better for you.

I'm a scholar. I might not be employed, I might not have two knuts to rub together, I might look like death was imminent, but I am a scholar. It doesn't matter that young women look at me at if I'm an insane, manically depressed old man (which I am). I am a scholar. God it's hard to believe that when Heather is looking at me with that pitying stare.

"Are you alright?" She asked sweetly, "you don't look all that well."

"I am fine." I said hoping she wouldn't press the matter. "Come in, and I'll make some tea." Heather came into my apartment with Dom following behind her. I shut the door behind them and glared at Dom's back. He was not a good looking man. At least I didn't think so, though I suppose I'm not a good judge. He was tall, slender, with blue eyes, a square jaw and tight blonde curls. He had a permanent look of distrust on his face and _everything_ he said sounded sarcastic even if it wasn't which was incredibly annoying.

"Yes, tea..." He said with a sardonic lilt. My teeth ground together as I strode past him to the kitchen where with a swish of my wand I set the kettle and tea pot to the task of making tea. While the kettle told the tea bags to jump into the tea pot so it could pour boiling water, I invited Heather and Dom to sit down.

"Have you got a packing stratagem?" Heather asked me, grinning, "I'm sure you have. You strike me as the type who is very fond of stratagems."

"I do indeed." I said with one of my most charming smiles as I sat opposite her, ignoring Dom has his sarcastic huffs as best I could.

"I thought we could start in the living room where you and Dom could pack away my books. There are rather a lot of them..." I explained as the tea pot and some mugs flew onto the kitchen table. I poured some tea, while Heather looked through the archway back into my living room. I had organised all the books I was taking into piles that stood like pillars across the living room floor. They were to go into two trunks, which I had spent much of yesterday morning magically expanding.

"Yeah, loads..." Dom said sarcastically. "I think it will be a two person job." My left hand balled into a fist. I looked at Heather who seemed completely unperturbed by Dom's inappropriate ironic tone of voice.

"Would you like some milk either of you?" I asked.

"Yes please." Said Heather.

"Sure, I would like some milk." Dom said. I pointed my wand at the fridge and wordlessly summoned the milk. Yes yes, I _was_ using wordless magic to impress Heather. Don't judge me. What's the use of being good at wordless (and wandless, I might add – though I don't want to brag) magic if you can't use it to impress girls? I poured some milk into Heather's mug and she took a sip, then I poured some into my own. Then sent the milk back into the fridge.

"Hey, I wanted some." Dom said, this time indignant rather than sarcastic.

"Did you?" I said feigning genuine surprise. "I thought you were joking."

"How could you think I was joking?" He asked, again with that infuriating sarcastic tone!

"Well, you sounded somewhat sarcastic when you said it." I remarked innocently. Heather smirked slightly I was pleased to see.

"What?" Dom asked.

"I thought you were using irony to, well, to convey contempt." I explained in my teacher voice.

"I know what sarcasm is!" Dom said, yes you guessed it, sarcastically. "Why did you think I was being it?" At this Heather snorted. Clearly she knew about Dom's curious way of speaking, and I suspect she knew that I was subtly teasing him about it. I was pleased that Heather and I were suddenly put on the same side with Dom's ignorance placing him firmly on the other.

"Because of your tone of voice." I said plainly. Then I imitated him to demonstrate.

"That's not sarcastic!" Dom declared and I couldn't prevent a smirk. Heather outright laughed and I felt a warmth spread from my chest to my fingertips at the sound. But then she put her hand on Dom's shoulder and stroked it comfortingly.

"He's just teasing you honey." She said, before she summoned back the milk. Dom looked at Heather and the couple shared a few moments gazing, with sickening affection, into each other's eyes. Suddenly it was them two against me again.

Once we had all finished our tea I explained my packing plan, and we set about stowing away my belongings. Despite Dom not for a moment failing to irritate me, I did my best to keep the pair of them entertained, after all, it was very kind of them to assist me in what was a very dull job. Dom, was slightly less pleased by my efforts to make conversation, but Heather chatted quite happily with me. Although in between piling books into a trunk she exchanged frequent flirty glances with Dom it was me she made the jokes with.

Whilst we were in the kitchen packing away my pots and pans we decided to have a competition. We spilt the room in half and whoever could pack away their half fastest won. To make thinks more interesting, I charmed the pan on her half so that they grew little metal legs and would crawl out of the box as soon as she put them in. It didn't take her long to notice I had done this.

"You cheat!" She squealed, as she picked up on the pans and held it up so that it's little legs waggled ridiculously in the air. I sniggered as sent a set of serving spoons into my box with a swish of my wand.

"Well you said we could use magic...You just weren't specific on what sort of magic." I said, sending some more cutlery into my box.

"Yeah, well two can play at that game." She said, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. She pointed her wand at my box and sent the serving spoons flying at me. I only just ducked in time as the spoons crashed into the cupboard behind me.

"Hey! I've only got one set of those." I scolded, though I wasn't really cross. Heather just gave me a lopsided grin as if to say 'what are you going to do about it, Lupin?'. I grinned and pointed my wand at her box. I doubled the charm I had already put on the pots on there so that they scrambled out of the box with more vigour than before, and then positively charged at Heather. She gave a girly scream and ran away from the army of saucepans. I laughed when she jumped onto my kitchen table to avoid them. But my amusement was short lived, because then the enchanted kitchenware headed for me. I'm not exactly sure what the pans, that now resembled black crabs, would do when they reached me, but somehow I didn't want to find out. I clambered onto the table next to Heather.

"What have you done?" She asked looking at me and grinning slightly. The table was very small, so for both of us to stand on it we had no choice but to stand with the sides of our bodies touching. It thrilled me that far from shrinking away she actually stepped a little closer and let her upper arm brush up against mine as she kept her eyes on the invading kitchenware. The thrill didn't last for long. Something that felt like the cold boney hand of a grindelow, reached up from my gut and grabbed by heart, choking it slightly.

_She wouldn't stand this close if she knew what you are!_ The wolf said, snapping it's jaws at me. Laughing at me.

"If I'm completely honest, I don't know." I said calmly to her. "I only cast an animation charm, so I don't know what's made them so vicious."

"Maybe they were cursed to begin with." Heather remarked swinging her foot at a spatula that had managed to climb up one of the legs of the table. "I've heard you shout at them whilst you are trying to cook."

"Have you?" I asked, wondering how close to my front door she would have had to have been to hear me in the kitchen.

"Yeah, you're all 'sodding' this and 'bloody' that." Heather continued looking back at my face. "I thought you were just a bad cook, but maybe it was because your pans were cursed."

"I'll have you know I'm an excellent cook." I told her, looking at her eyes, which looked more turquoise at this distance.

"It's a shame you are moving away, so I wont get to see if that's true." She said and her smile, rather than mischievous grew slightly soft. The grindelow's hand squeezed a bit tighter and I suddenly wished she wasn't there anymore, because now that she was looking at me like that it was taking a great deal of self-restraint not to kiss her.

"What are you doing in there?" I head Dom yell.

"Being attacked by Remus' saucepans!" Heather yelled back the attention she had been paying to me melting away instantly only to be replaced with a loving smile that she was now giving Dom.

"Er...right." Dom said...sarcastically. The doorbell rang. I lifted the charms off the kitchenware, then got off the table and walked to the door. As I walked I heard Heather jump off the table and embrace Dom. The hand gripped so tightly now it hurt.

"I don't like how you've been with that man today," I head Dom whisper. I have very good hearing, which, at times like this was definitely not a blessing. I stopped at the door, the masochist in me wanting to hear the rest of this conversation.

"What do you mean?" Heather asked quietly.

"All the joking around and stuff." Dom said his voice, for once, devoid of sarcasm, and instead rather insecure sounding. "It's like your flirting with him..."

"Don't be so silly, love." Heather said. Then I heard them kiss, an act which really sounds quite disgusting when you are not the one doing it.

"I'd never go for a guy like him. He's so...bookish." Heather said. "I just feel kinda sorry for him, you know? He doesn't seem to have many friends." Ouch.

"Yeah, I wonder why..." Oh, yay, the sarcasm is back. I were jerked from my torpor of bitterness and embarrassment but the doorbell ringing again. I opened the door.

"Alright, mate? Sorry I'm a bit late, I got into a bit of hot water with a bloke about a harpie." Mundungus said pushing his way into my flat. In response to my quizzical look "don't ask" was all he could say. Dom and Heather returned from the kitchen holding hands and with lipstick smeared on their faces. I suddenly wished none of them were there. They weren't James, or Lily or Sirius, or Peter. I don't know why I ever thought they could be. Peter, James and Lily, and even Sirius before he broke my heart, were one of a kind. The jokes I shared with Heather weren't as witty or a wild as those I had once shared with Sirius. She wouldn't laugh with me at all if she knew what I was. She would run a mile. Neither she, nor Dung (I won't even mention Dom) were as warm-hearted as James, or as forgiving and empathetic as Lily. They weren't my real friends. As Heather astutely pointed out, I didn't have any real friends. Heather was only here out of sympathy and Dung because I paid him.

I recounted some of these thoughts to my mother later that night when I arrived back home. And she, with her quick irish wit, simply said,

"Aye, they'll help you move alright, but they wouldn't help you move a body would they? Only a true friend would do that."

Sadly, that was just the thing that was bothering me.


	5. Alainferas

Glad you liked it. Dom was based on a guy I know who I really hate (which is saying something because I _never_ hate anyone), and this guy really does talk like he's being sarcastic all the time. It is SO annoying.

Anyway, I'd quite like Tonks to show up too. I know she will, well, you do too, but I'm not sure when. I know what she's going to be like though. My Tonks is going to be a little different to the Tonks I've seen in other fanfics, but still true to the books of course (as true as I can be anyway), and I'm excited about introducing her to you and to Remus.

Just to warn you, there is some swearing in this chapter. Pretty mild though.

Chapter 5

The village where I grew up in Northern Ireland, is small, traditional, beautiful and quite frankly, hilarious in its refusal to be PC. Racist remarks and sexist slogans abound. But, although you would not expect it, no-one living in the village actually _is_ racist or sexist or bigoted in any other respect. They use the words sure, and make the jokes, and their view of the world is nearly always somewhat blinkered by inappropriately generalised stereotypes; but really the townsfolk of Alainferas are very accepting and considerate. This juxtaposition of characteristics takes some getting used to, but once you are, it makes Alainferas an entertaining place to live. And for me, even though the wizards of the village (the ones that knew me when I was a child at least) call me 'the furry one' or most frequently, 'the beast' they accept me nonetheless. Sadly, the wizarding population of my hometown is very small (being mostly my relatives) and just as the flaws of a small town do not usually spread to neighbouring towns, neither do its merits.

My home is Springhill farm about 5 miles outside of Alainferas. It is not a working farm anymore, it hasn't been since my grandfather on my mother's side owned it, but it still has a farmy feel to it. There are rusting tractor parts scattered across the garden which slopes steeply upwards with an old cow barn at the end. Despite its being almost completely dilapidated, this cow barn served as a fortress, Hogwarts, a battleship, a Giant's cave, and the scene of many a bloody duel between myself and whatever dark wizard I had read about that week when I was a child. Then there was the house itself which had always been decorated, inside and out, with bridles, horseshoes, antique farming equipment and paintings by my mother of the farm and the surrounding countryside. And, since we still kept chickens and some sheep, the house always smelt of chicken feed and mud – which, although it doesn't sound all that pleasant, was one of my favourite smells. It really was quite picturesque.

There were a few things that spoilt it though. One was the cellar. The doors to the cellar, which stood by the side of the house, were heavy and made of iron, and although I couldn't see through them, every time I looked at those doors I saw the chains that sat within them and the small frightened boy wrapped in them, the musky smell of fungus and the sour smell of blood filling his nostrils, waiting to transform into the beast. Then there were the patches of dark on the carpet of the stairs, where my father had carried my bleeding body up to my bedroom after the night when chains broke and the wolf was able to attack the sliver of human residing somewhere in its own body. The plethora of books on lycanthropy and healing that filled the study that my parents poured over in a desperate attempt to find a cure. The complete lack of anything valuable or any family heirlooms, all of which were sold to raise funds for healing remedies. But, it was easy to forget about all these things when I saw how covered the kitchen was in photographs of me and my family on holidays, on picnics, playing quidditch in the garden, having parties, building dens; all evidence of the efforts my parents went to to try and make my childhood happy. They might not have succeeded in making me happy, but they certainly made me feel loved, and that's what counts.

When I arrived home yesterday evening in Dung's battered old fiat, my mother was in the kitchen with some tea watching the Chickens in the garden.

"Remus Remus, come and look at this!" She said the second I stepped through the front door straight into the kitchen. I smiled, genuinely for a change, and walked towards the window. In the orange evening light I saw the chickens pecking around in the garden, all looking a bit tired and just about ready to hop off to bed.

"What?" I said.

"Look at Jock." My mother said giggling like she was eight years old. I saw Jock the cock strutting around the pen with his hed high in the air looking, strangely, rather afraid. Then I saw why. One of the hens was chasing after him, making a strange noise that made her sound more like a pidgeon than a hen. Occasionally she would pick up speed in her pursuit of Jock, but Jock would just run on, flapping is wings and squawking unhappily.

"What is that hen doing?" I asked. My mother giggled again.

"She's trying to seduce Jock." She said. I looked incredulously at my mother. When my mother was younger, she looked exactly like Katherine Hepburn, which was actually really annoying because it meant I had to put up with Sirius and James constantly making jokes about how they wouldn't mind sleeping with my mother. Now she was in her sixties she still was attractive, if a bit plumper and more wrinkled. My favourite thing about her, though, was her smile: it was the epitome of a cheeky grin. Even more mischievous than Sirius'; and when she was making a joke or planning a prank on my father (which he used to say would be the death of them, though everyone know he loved it really) her eyebrows used to shoot up and then bounce back down really quickly which never failed to make me laugh in anticipation. She had that smile now, and I couldn't help but grin.

"For weeks she's been following him around wiggling her tail feathers at him. It'd make you piss yerself from laughter to see it so it would." My mother explained. "But she's abandoned the wiggling technique and has resorted to chasing him and making that weird noise. Oh, those hens do make me laugh." With the poultry entertainment over, my mother hugged me and kissed my cheek.

"I know you didn't want to leave Oxford, but it is lovely to have you home pet." She said, squeezing me rather more tightly than I thought was normal. When she pulled away there were tears in her eyes. I held her at arms length and asked if something were wrong. I noticed that she was actually a lot thinner than when I last saw her, and her face was very pale, her hair also was very thin. Something was definitely wrong. But hell would freeze over before she'd tell me what.

"Oh don't be such a worry guts, I'm fine, Remus." She said, her voice overly bright. "It's you I want to know about. I want to know about that gobshite that gave you the sack. Bastard. I hope a mouse shits in his porridge."

I couldn't help but smile at my mother's wicked way of talking. I could just imagine my father scolding her for swearing.

"Anna! That mouth of yours would give a nun a heart attack so it would!" He would have said, though not angrily, he never got angry at my mother, he loved her so much I don't think it was possible for him ever to be angry with her. My father was the complete opposite to my mother: while my mother was pretty, incapable of behaving herself, swore like sailor in pain and got on with everyone; my father was pale and lanky with a big nose, small eyes and ginger hair, impossibly shy, never raised his voice and was impeccably polite Though, he was also brave and principled. He would never keep quiet if he thought injustice was taking place, and he would fight to the death for a man's right to be free. A trait, although admirable in my eyes, was the reason I was a werewolf and the reason my father was dead. But I didn't want to think about that now. Instead I had a hot toddy with my mother and told her about Oxford.

Summer ended with a week of thunderstorms, followed by two weeks of non-stop rain, and then we were into winter, which in Ireland means lots and lots more rain, which gradually turns to snow around about December. It was round about December where my mind began to rebell against the monotony of my life at home. I love walking in the countryside and sketching the landscape, but that becomes difficult to do in the winter (no impervius charm is strong enough to keep away the Irish rain). And after two months I had read every one of my books front to back. Twice. And while my mother is good company, a grown man can't be expected to want nothing but to spend time with his mother. I was beginning to get bored. After walking aimlessly into the village and back again in the rain, my boredom was momentarily lifted. For better or worse? Who can tell.

"In here sonny jim." My mother called from the living room where she was sat covered in a quilt in front of the fire with Pancakes (the cat) on her lap.

"Don't call me that, I'm not six." I said back, taking off my wet coat and slinging it onto the sofa before I sat down in it and shook the rain from my hair.

"Six year olds know better than to leave their wet coats on my furniture." My mother warned with one eyebrow arched. I rolled my eyes and with one hand pushed the coat off the sofa and only the floor.

"No you canna leave it on the floor either. Hang it up." She said stroking Pancakes who was also looking at me with a stern but slightly amused look. I sighed pulled my wand from my pocket and levitated the coat, then sent it to the coat stand in the hall. My mother's face seemed to glow at my use of magic. She loved magic. Even before she met my father she was fascinated with witches and wizards. I suspect being a wizard was what gave my father an edge with my mother. Then again, _I_ was a wizard, and muggle women found me just as repellent as witches did.

"There was a young woman here for you today." My mother said. I made mouse noises at Pancakes then said:

"A young woman?"

"Aye. She appeared in my fireplace and gave me the fright of my life."

"Oh."

I had set up the fireplace so that it was connected to the flu network, but only a handful of people knew where I was: Moody, Dung, Dumbledore and Hagrid. Four people who were about as far from being a young woman as you could possibly be. Though I guess they could have been disguised – but why?

"What did she want?" I asked.

"She wanted to ask you a few questions about James Potter and his family." My mother told me, I looked sharply at her, suddenly nervous. Even though war was over, wartime habits of suspicion are hard to break.

"What was her name? What did she look like and how did she find me?" I asked like the hero of an action movie.

"Calm down." My mother said raising her hands. "I didn't just let her in house just like that. I'm not an eejit. I questioned her very thoroughly, I made her show me her card and everything."

My mum knew a lot about magic. A heck of a lot more than most muggles. But she could still be magically duped as easily as any other muggle.

"What was her name?" I asked in a much calmer voice.

"Er, something Tonks. I don't remember what her first name was. It was something weird though." Said my mother.

"Nymphadora?" I said.

"Thats the one." She said triumphantly clicking her fingers then pointing at my like you do when someone guesses correctly in charades.

"What did she want?"

"She said she was writing a dissertation or something about James' little boy."

A dissertation on Harry Potter, such an obvious choice...Surely all the trainee aurors would have all chosen to do their dissertation on Harry Potter. Nymphadora's wouldn't stand out. _Why do you care if it stands out, Lupin? You don't even know her!_ I ignored the wolf's question and carried on thinking. Ah! Even if all the other trainee aurors had chosen to do their dissertation on the same topic, none of the others had come to me. Maybe Nymphadora was trying to get a different perspective. She was taking an obvious title but making her essay anything but obvious. Brilliant.

"Anyway," my mother continued, "she waited around for a bit, we had some tea, but then she had to go. She said that she knew she should have written to you first. She was very sweet." A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"Will she be returning?"

"I don't know. She said she'd write. Anyway, how is James' little boy? Do you see him at all?"

"No. No I don't. I read in the paper though he and his friends bested a troll," I said, "Though the profit does have a tendency to exaggerate. If it's true though...he's going to be one hell of a wizard..."

Suddenly my mother coughed. It wasn't just a I-have-a-bit-of-dust-in-my-throat sort of cough it was a proper I-might-have-pneumonia sort of cough.

"Are you alright?" I asked when the coughing subsided slightly.

"I'm fine Pet." My mother lied catching her breath.

"No you're not." I said. "You've been looking awful for weeks."

"Thanks son." My mother said sarcastically.

"I'm serious. You're not well. Have you been to a doctor?"

"I'm fine Remus! Stop being so fussy." My mother said, with too much vigour for me to believe her and for Pancakes to continue sitting on her lap. As Pancakes fled the room my mother and I had a mexican show down with our eyes. I knew she would win though. I knew this because I didn't want to win. I didn't want to know what was wrong.

Alainferas is not a real place. Alain is based on Aliann which means beautiful in Gaelic and feras which means beast in latin (I think).

The meaning of the Irish slang is probably pretty obvious, just in case it's not: gobshite and eejit both mean stupid person.

And a hot toddy is an excellent drink made form whiskey (though I usually have it with brandy instead)

PS I love Remus's mum.


	6. Tonks And Temptation

Thanks for the reviews guys, I really appreciate them and am glad you are enjoying the story.

Lily features in this next chapter. She is not portrayed in the best light, but Remus is recalling an incident where she was not being herself exactly, so don't get me wrong, I've nothing against Lily.

Also there are some mild sex references. In fact, I'm thinking about changing the rating of this story to a T, what do you think?

Chapter 6

"Damn the sodding bugger to hell!" I hissed. Not only did I just realise this month's full moon fell on Christmas eve but I just stubbed my toe.

"Why does it have to hurt so much?" I complained as I hopped on one leg gripping the injured foot tightly with both hands. When the pain subsided I put the foot back down on the wooden floor of my room. The room hadn't changed much since I was sixteen. There were still posters on the wall of the muggle band The Smiths (I've never really liked wizard music, somehow it just doesn't have as much feeling in it as muggle music, I have similar feelings about art: magical paintings just aren't as good as those done by hand; somehow magic impedes the transition from the artist's mind to the canvas, so that the painting or drawing never has as much of the artists' soul in it as it would otherwise) and some muggle films that I liked, and a few of my old drawings. My old broomstick still leant against the wall next to the wardrobe, and the bookshelf still had gobstones, chess pieces and chocolate frog cards shoved in-between my books.

I continued my journey to the small ensuite bathroom. Once in there I opened the mirrored cabinet above the sink. I lifted the bottle of wolfsbane from inside. I don't know why I was checking it, I knew I didn't have enough. There was only about a goblet-full left in there, which wasn't enough for even one full moon. I took a long slow deep breath. I had hired a potion-brewer to make this batch for me when I moved to Oxford. As I would be living in a nice area I felt I needed it. But I had had to spend almost all my savings to get it. I simply didn't have enough for any more. I felt suddenly shaky. My next transformation would not be tempered with potion. It would be complete. I would, for a night, cease to exist, and the animal – the monster! – that lurked inside me everyday, that constantly whispered taunts and jeers at me, will be let out. The full moon was only a week away. I covered my face with my hands. I would be chained in the cellar where I wouldn't hurt anyone. In that respect I was fortunate, but I didn't feel lucky. I felt afraid. So afraid in fact that my eyes stung from thinking about it. Transformation was always painful but without treatment it was torture. It didn't matter how many years passed, I never got used to it. And because I lock myself away, once I am transformed, I am the sole victim of the wolf's anger.

I replaced the bottle and shut the cabinet. I looked at myself in the mirror. I don't think I look ugly, but I'm not good looking either. My skin is too pale, as are my eyes, my nose too long and my lips too thin. The scar that ran from just under my right eye to my ear didn't help either. Nor did the grey in my hair. I teased one of these silver strands with my fingers. I was only 31 for Merlin's sake and I was already going grey.

"Stop obsessing Lupin." I told my reflection. My reflection just looked back at me with slight pity. I walked back into my bedroom and lay down on the bed and reread the letter I had received from a young woman that morning.

_Dear Mr Lupin, _

_I am sorry not to have met you that day I came by, but I should have known better than to turn up at your home uninvited. _

_You probably know this, but I'm Ted and Andromeda Tonks daughter Nymphadora, though everyone just calls me Tonks (at my request because Nymphadora is a god-awful name, my mum must have been high when she named me), and I'm training to be an Auror under Alastor Moody. It was Moody who suggested I interview you for my dissertation, the title of which is 'What can be learnt from the events leading up to the fall of he who must not be named'. A slightly obvious choice I know, but I've decided to ignore the big historical events, and focus on the Potters themselves and their particular dealings with you know who. The files the ministry have on the Potters are all a bit dry, so Moody suggested I ask you. Of course, I understand if you don't want to talk about it, plus Moody said there are some things you just plain can't tell me, witness protection or something (I should really know the correct term seeing as this is what I'm studying)._

_The facts I know are these: James and Lily Potter were married not long after they left school. You know who tried to recruit James as a Death Eater, he refused; they both supplied information aiding the pursuit of Evan Rosier, and they thwarted you know who again but I don't know how exactly. There is some doubt as to whether it was because of these three events that you know who wanted to kill the Potters, or whether it was because he somehow foresaw that little Harry Potter would bring about his end and mistakenly thought by killing the child he would avoid said end. But, I don't want to discuss this in my dissertation. _

_I want to know what the Potters were like as people. I want to know what it was about James Potter that made him strong enough to refuse to become death eater. I want to know what gave them the strength of character to actively fight against you know who, even though they didn't have to. (I also kinda want to know what that third act of thwarting was.) These to me, seem like the sort of things we should try to learn from, and to emulate. Anything you can tell me about how James and Lily Potter stood up to you know who, would be fantastic. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Tonks _

It is obvious from this letter, Nympha- Tonks is conscientious and puts a lot of thought into her work, which impressed me, but I was still quite torn as to whether or not to acquiesce to her request. On the one hand, I wanted to help her, but on the other, she was asking me to bring up memories that I try very hard everyday to keep buried. In either case, my reply could wait until after christmas. I lay still on my bed and thought about getting up and going into the village to get the ingredients for the mince pies I said I'd make. (Why do I agree to these things? I don't even like mince pies.) My mother and I were going to my uncle Paddy's for Christmas lunch, where we would be joined by the rest of my family (specifically my mother's three brothers and their wives and children, the only Lupin that would be there was my grandpa Jack, who was in his nineties now and starting to loose his marbles), and as they all knew I would be recovering from a full moon that day, all my mother and I had to bring were presents, booze, Christmas pudding (which my mother made) and mince pies. My mother is an expert cook, to be sure (oh, would you look at that, I said 'to be sure'), but she insisted that my mince pies were better than hers – I make better pastry apparently. I had a strong suspicion she asked me to make the pies just to give me something to do. Also, I couldn't afford to buy anyone (expect my mother) presents, so mince pies and my grumpy self, were all I was contributing to the christmas festivities.

I heaved myself from the bed and headed into the village. It hadn't change much since 1952 and with the snow adorning every rooftop and lining every street, I half expected someone doing a Bisto commercial to coming running out of one of the little cottages. I stopped at the granary to buy some flour.

"What can I do you for, Mr Lupin?" Mr McCarthy said resting his large hairy hands on the counter.

"Two pounds of flour Please, Mr McCarthy." I said.

"How're ye cuttin'?"

"Uh, survivin'. You know how the holidays can be."

"Hey, you're getting your accent back."

"Uh, really? I guess I am. I cant really tell."

"I know what you mean abouts the holidays though. Can be awful lonely. You ought to find yourself a wife Mr Lupin."

"Thanks for the advice Mr McCarthy. And for the flour."

I stopped off at the other little muggle shops in the village to get the other ingredients along with titbits of advice from the merchants. Apparently, advice was part of a special deal today.

"A good laugh and a long sleep s'all you need, Mr Lupin, you'll feel right as rain after."

"A handsome young man like you? You should be beating them off with a stick. It's confidence you lack. And that ain't nothing a few bitter's can't cure!"

"You could do with a haircut Remus, would you like me to cut it for you? (This last piece of advice came from Rita McDonnell, a woman twenty years my senior who's life ambition was to seduce every single man in the whole of northern Ireland. Needless to say, I turned down the haircut.)

I returned home and set about making the mince pies. As I worked, I thought about Tonk's letter. She wanted to know why James resisted becoming a Death Eater. Well, there was a pretty simple answer to that: because he loved Lily, a muggleborn. James would rather die than betray her. So saying no to the Death Eaters was easy for him. It was less easy for me, though only very slightly. Almost all the werewolves were on Voldemort's side, and the werewolves on the other side were treated like dirt. It almost made sense for me to join the rest of my kind, the way that wizard's treated me made it seem like that was where I belonged. But I, like James, could not betray my friends. They meant the world to me.

As I kneaded the dough I thought about James and Lily. They were such a volatile couple. They fought all the time, but beneath it all, they were utterly in love with each other. For James it was probably love at first sight. Lily took a while to come round to the idea, but in the end she felt the same. I remembered that very awkward night when Lily finally admitted that she didn't really hate James, and actually felt the complete opposite. It was awkward for a lot of reasons, but as everything turned out well, I can look back on that night and find it amusing. I suppose it was as well.

James had fancied Lily from the moment he had set eyes on her, but his feelings for her really hit boiling point in his last year of school. He was completely obsessed with her. And while he took her scornful rejections on the cuff, and swaggered away confidently claiming she'd give in eventually, I had heard him struggling to sleep and occasionally even crying in the bed next to mine when he thought no-one would know. I, unlike poor James at the time, got on very well with Lily and we were fairly close friends. She was probably the kindest woman I'd ever met, which was why her harshness towards James was so strange. Sirius, being the perceptive man that he was, pointed out that she was only that mean to James because she secretly quite liked him. But regardless of whether James' feelings were unrequited or not, it was getting serious; James was really starting to suffer. Which I hated to see. So, despite not really wanting to get involved, I persuaded Lily to give James a chance. Which James completely and utterly blew. He and Lily had a fight and he ended up getting it on with another girl. Only James could have been so stupid. Anyway, Lily was upset and blamed me of course.

"Why in the hell did you tell me to go?" She had shouted at me, while she cried and while I nervously put a hand on her shoulder.

Although I did feel a little guilty, comforting Lily wasn't the awkward bit. The awkward bit came later, when she had stopped crying.

"Men are such bastards..." She told me angrily.

"James is an idiot," I said, "but he loves you really."

"No he doesn't. If he did he wouldn't do something like that." Lily said.

"I think he was just trying to act like he wasn't bothered by your fight." I said. I gave her a few more lame excuses on James' behalf until Lily eventually stopped me with:

"Why don't you have a girlfriend, Remus?"

I looked blankly at her for a bit, then said, "Er, I don't know."

"I know a fair few girls who would want to go out with you." She said. I can't remember what I said to that, probably another barely believable lie.

"Are you gay?" She then asked.

"No. No I'm not gay." I said, laughing slightly because Sirius called me gay all the time. "I guess I'm just a bit nervous about that sort of thing." I eventually added.

"You should't be." Lily said. "You're such a kind man, and funny, and handsome." I think she meant it.

"Why can't James be more like you?" Lily said. "I bloody hate him."

"No you don't." I said.

"I do!" She insisted. Then she looked at me, and caught me with her green eyes. My mouth instantly turned dry and my heart started to thump because there was an expression in her eyes that felt very very wrong and very very nice at the same time. She licked her lips and her eyes flitted down to my mouth. When she looked back up, she seemed a little sad.

"You are so much better than James." She said quietly. This, she did not mean, and in saying it, she made me feel inadequate. I was second best. I was going to be her consolation prize. She put her hand on my thigh and leaned towards me. I almost let her kiss me, but before her lips touched mine I pushed her away.

"Lily, what are you doing?" I said with some impatience. I knew what she was doing, it was quite obvious what she was doing. And I knew why too. She wanted to get back at James. And it made me angry. Just because she was pretty and I was lonely didn't mean she could use me like that. Her very green eyes were glassy and her pink lips shivering slightly, so I knew she felt guilty and confused and upset, but when she spoke her voice was assertive, and the hand she was sliding up my inner thigh certainly was that too.

"What do you think I'm doing?" She said, her hand reaching it's destination. I grabbed it and pushed her roughly away and then stood up so she couldn't try again. I felt angry at her, and now angry at myself because it had felt so damn good.

"Stop it. Why are you doing this?" I said angrily at her, looking at her as if she were a first year rather than the sixth year she was. My expression must have been harsher than I thought because tears suddenly escaped her eyes. My anger vanished and guilt and sympathy replaced it.

"I'm sorry Remus...I, er, that was really stupid of me." She said through thick sobs. I sighed and sat back down next to her. I hesitated slightly then put my arms around her and let her cry onto my shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm not really angry Lily." I said. "It wouldn't have made you feel better."

"I know." She sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Don't be sorry."

"And as usual, you are right Remus. I do...love him."

Sometimes being right all the time isn't all that fun.

I often wondered what would have happened if I hadn't have stopped her. Would she have stopped instead? Would she had realised that compared to James, I was actually, rather repulsive. Or would she have carried on...How far would we have gone? What would it have been like? Had she not been James' girl, I don't think I would have stopped her. What that meant exactly though, I didn't know. In the end, I decided it probably meant nothing. I was a lonely teenage boy after all, I would have probably got as turned on had Moaning Myrtle come onto me.

Anyway, Tonks didn't want to know about me and Lily, she wanted to know about _James_ and Lily.


	7. Chains

This chapter is a bit depressing. I know Remus isn't as big of a misery guts as he seems to be of late, but what can I say? He's lonely.

I'm going to skip book two, and I'll be finishing off book one in the next chapter probably, so it wont be long until I do book three and Sirius will be back! Yay! *Does Sirius-fangirl celebratory dance (which is nothing compared to my Remus-fangirl dance, as with Lupin is where my heart truly lies)*

Chapter 7

_Dear Tonks, _

_I am happy to help you with your dissertation in any way I can. I was quite impressed with your nuanced approach to the topic. However, the questions you asked me do not invite short answers. It would be doing James and Lily Potter and injustice for me to describe how brave and loyal to their friends they were in just a few lines. For this reason, would you like to meet and discuss your dissertation in person? You are welcome to visit me at my mother's home again, or I could arrange to visit you. _

_I look forward to your reply, _

_Sincerely, _

_Remus Lupin_

I read the letter again. It was a bit formal maybe, but I've always written letters like that. I suddenly remembered Christmas. It was Christmas eve today, but I wouldn't be sending the letter until after Christmas, and it would be polite to ask her how her Christmas was. I squished the line 'I hope you had an enjoyable Christmas' underneath 'Dear Tonks'. It felt strange to hope that something that hadn't happened yet went well, but when Tonks received the letter it wouldn't seem strange at all. I put the parchment down and looked at the pen I had used to write it. It wasn't a quill, it was a muggle pen, and I actually preferred it to a quill. It was very smooth to use and didn't make that awful scratching noise. Plus I didn't have to spend ten minutes magically erasing blot marks.

My mother came into the room with a mug of steaming coffee that, judging from the smell, she had Irished up quite a bit.

"It's only just past twelve, ma." I said. My Irish accent, that was normally so slight it was non-existant, had returned with a vengeance, so I now sounded _exactly_ like my father.

"Shut up." My mother said with fatigued amusement. "It's Christmas, I can do what I like."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Then I got up from the desk and sat in the chair opposite her, taking the pen with me. She had been consistently loosing weight since I had moved back home and today she was looking especially gaunt. I didn't really want to ask though, for fear of what the truth might be.

"What sort of pen is this?" I asked her instead.

"It's a biro my love." My mother replied sipping her coffee. I pocketed the pen while my mother narrowed her eyes and assessed me. I avoided her gaze, feeling uncomfortable with her starting at me. She was going to ask me how I was feeling I could tell.

"How are you feeling?" She said.

So tense, I cannot sit still without jiggling. So sick, every time I open my mouth I'm afraid I will vomit. So overrun with the wolf's anger, that it takes every ounce of my will power not to scream at you just for talking to me. And so anxious, I almost feel like crying.

"Fine." I said.

That was the worst thing about the few days before the full moon. The restlessness and nausea I could handle, it was the way the oncoming transformation affected my mood that was almost impossible to deal with. Everything irritated me. And I mean _everything_. If a room was silent I was annoyed that it was too quiet. If something broke the silence however, I was irate. If a picture was not straight, I was furious. If I stubbed my toe or knocked my elbow, or spilt some sugar, or if someone else did, or if someone didn't put a book back in the right place, or left a light on when they weren't in the room...there was not a being in existence that could match my fury. Of course, I tried my hardest not to take my irrational anger out on anyone, and the people that knew me knew it wasn't really me, it was the moon. But it was still hell.

Also, while I felt irrationally furious all the time, I also felt very fragile, and afraid and so very very lonely. I couldn't confess to anyone how much I feared the transformation, partly because I was too proud to admit how terrified I was, and partly because I knew no-one would understand what it felt like to know that for a night, I would no longer be myself; to know that I could do any number of horrific things and not be able to stop myself. Consequently, I felt completely isolated by my fear. And anyone who has every felt lonely, and I mean properly lonely, will understand how crippling it can be. I don't know whether this was also a symptom of my lycanthropy, or my own peculiar reaction to it. I'm inclined to think it was the latter, as I have suffered from mood disorders in the past. But I don't want to think about that now.

"I've made some soup for your dinner. I know you wont feel like eating but you really should." My mother said, thankfully disturbing my thoughts. Her eyes were creased with worry for me. I could see she wanted to hug me, but she wouldn't because firstly I was too old for such things, and secondly she knew that I was particularly adverse to physical contact on the days leading up to the full moon, and if she touched me I would probably snap at her.

"Thanks." I said abruptly with clenched teeth. I wished she would just go away. But all that did was make me feel guilty and depressed. God I hated this. I looked at my watch. Four and a half hours until moon rise. Whilst I dreaded it, at least once night fell, I wouldn't have to cope with these insane mood swings.

"We're not having lunch until five in the evening tomorrow, so you can sleep in all morning." My mother told me.

"Hardly qualifies as lunch then." I said with sourness. My mother merely took a deep breath.

"Why don't you have a bath, love." She suggested. She shouldn't be so kind to me.

"I think I will. Thank you." I said looking at the floor before I got up and ran myself a bath.

I lay in the bath for hours. Until my skin had puckered and felt dry even under the water. I didn't want to get out though. The warm water soothed my aching bones and it was peaceful in the quiet bathroom. With my toes I turned the hot tap at let some more hot water trickle into the bath. I had such long toes. I had rather long feet actually. 'Big' is the wrong word to describe them, although I wore a size 13, because when I wasn't wearing my shoes, they didn't look particularly large, they were too narrow to look large, they were just long. My eyes moved away from my feet and settled on my knees. I fingered a large jagged scar that creeped across my right knee. I had a lot of scars. Horrible ugly things they were. They criss-crossed across my chest and thighs. I couldn't _remember_ how I got most of them, but I _knew_ how I got them. They were the marks left from where the wolf attacked itself in frustration at not being able to get at any humans. Quite often when I transformed back into a man at the end of the night, the less severe wounds healed during the transformation process. The more grievous injuries remained however, thought they weren't always in the same place. They moved slightly when I transformed back. Like the scar that cheekily ran into the crevice between my thigh and my abdomen. I suspect that was originally on the wolf's thigh. I laughed without mirth. No-one but myself had ever seen that scar. And unless, I don't know, I was in an accident or got ill or something, probably no-one ever would.

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

"It's time, honey." My mother said. I looked at the bathroom door as if a Dementor stood there. Then I heaved myself out of the bath. I didn't bother dressing. I would only have to undress again, lest I ruin my clothes transforming. Instead I put a dressing gown on and left the bathroom. My mother gave me a cup of black tea and took me down into the cellar. She helped me put the chains around my wrists. They were a bit big, but my father had enchanted them years ago to transfigure once I was transformed so they would fit exactly. Then my mother put a chain around my neck. As she locked it she cried. I looked at her apologetically. She would have been so much happier had she given me up to the ministry of magic to be raised in containment like they wanted; she would have been so much happier had she never have had me in the first place, that way I would never have been bitten; she would be so much happier if I weren't alive.

"I'm sorry." I whispered looking into her tear filled eyes. They were gold like mine. She shook her head at me. I suddenly felt hot, and searing pain flashed briefly in my arms and legs. I closed my eyes and hissed slightly. Moonrise was close. My mother recognised the signs and kissed my forehead, leaving a wet smudge of her tears there.

"I love you Remus." She said, just like she used to when I was a child. Then she left. She locked the heavy enchanted door behind her, and left be alone in the dimly lit room that smelt of damp and faintly of blood. That coppery smell seemed so much stronger now. My mouth filled with saliva. From fear? From hunger? I started to breathe quickly, as the ache in my bones grew steadily more agonising. I looked down at my shaking limbs. Those diseased human limbs. _So disgusting._ Was that me thinking? Or the wolf? What did it matter, it was the truth. I was disgusting.

"Wake up, love. Come on, wake up."

I was shaking. Or, someone was shaking me? I couldn't quite tell.

"Remus, wake up please, you're starting to scare me." That was my mother's voice. She was shaking me. I opened my eyes. I saw only dusty stone floor, so I turned my head. Which turned out to be a mistake because my neck ached like nobody's business. I could now see my mother kneeling next to me though. She smiled and sighed with relief when she saw that I was awake.

"Oh thank God. Do you feel okay?" She said. I cleared my throat, then croaked, "just tired. And my back hurts." 'Hurts' was an understatement. God, if it felt this bad lying down what would it be like when I stood up?

"Well, you can go straight to sleep again once you're upstairs. Can you get up, alright?" She asked putting her hand on my shoulder and rubbing it slightly. I noticed that she had covered me with the dressing gown from last night and released me from the chains. As I stood up I pulled the dressing gown on properly. I was pleased to find the chains had done their job and I hadn't hurt myself; but my back really was causing me great discomfort. Still, it would be better after I had rested. I went with my mother back into the house and up to my room. I crawled into the bed and went to sleep almost straight away. I was awake just long enough to hear my mother say, without a trace of irony, which was impressive considering she was an a Irish woman who were known to always tell it like it is,

"Merry Christmas, love."


	8. Christmas At The Gallagher's

Quite a long chapter this one, I hope you don't get bored.

Chapter 8

Christmas gets less exciting and becomes more of a chore when you get older. This year was particularly choice example, as I felt tired the whole day. After I woke at about 3pm, I dressed and went downstairs and had a brandy and a mince pie with my mother.

"Do you feel alright?" My mother asked. "I know that was your first transformation for a while without wolfsbane."

"Um, it wasn't as bad as I thought." I said honestly, "I still feel tired though."

"Well that's alright," my mother said sympathetically, "we won't spend long at your uncle Paddy's; and then you can come back and sleep some more." I nodded and drank my brandy. My mother watched me and drank hers.

"Do you want to open your present?" She asked. I looked at her. I did want to, now that she mentioned it. But I didn't want to seem to eager, so I paused.

"Alright." I said eventually while my mother laughed and walked towards the tree. It was decorated with candy canes, chocolates, and decorations I made when I was a child, reindeer, mini santas, elves with sea shells for hats, that sort of thing. There were also lots of pine cones I had collected and charmed so that they glowed different colours. Pancakes sauntered into the room and wound her way around my legs purring loudly. I bent down to tickle her ears. My mother bent under the tree and picked up one of the handful of presents. She handed it to me. I knew it was a book. I get bought books a lot. Books and socks. They are very obvious presents I suppose. But I love getting them. I love books, but I am hardly able to buy them for myself. And, well, I am always in need of socks, but I never ever buy them for myself. I never think of them as important until every pair I own is riddled with holes. I turned the present over in my hands and examined the paper. My mother laughed at me.

"Still take forever to open a present I see." She said and I grinned. I bagan to carefully unwrap the present. I didn't rip the paper, instead I meticulously peeled off the Sellotape. I parted the folded red paper to reveal the back cover of a book bound in red fabric, I turned the book over and read the title that was stamped across the book in gold lettering. It looked very grand and I hoped it didn't cost my mother two much money. The Iliad and The Odyssey by Homer.

"Like it?" My mother said.

I smiled at her, "yes thank you."

"You used to love the Odyssey when you were younger, but you don't have a copy; I checked. Have you read the Iliad?"

"I have, yes." I said, my mother looked momentarily disappointed, then smiled.

"Are you glad to have a copy of your own?" She asked.

"Yeah. Thanks." I said. I was glad, I loved the story of Troy, and I loved reading books I had already read. It was childish really, but reading books I had already read made me feel safe.

"You also got some other presents sent to you, do you want to open them now as well?" My mother said gesturing towards the other gifts under the tree.

"Er, yeah alright, but you should really open yours first, you know, to be fair." I said peering under the tree to try and read the labels, but I couldn't see what they said from this distance. My mother sat down on the floor and took out her present. She unwrapped it much more quickly than I did to reveal the magical instant camera I had got her. It was only a cheap one, and most wizards (unless they were as poor as I was) would probably turn their noses up at it, but my mother squeaked with delight.

"Is it magic?" She cried.

"Yes it is." I confirmed. My mother did a strange little dance of excitement.

"But I'm not a witch...Can I make it work?" She said taking the cap off the lens and looking through the view finder.

"Magic comes with consciousness." I said. "Every intelligent living thing has a bit of magic in them, it's just that witches and wizards can control it and use it. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, yes, you can use the camera. It already has film in too. And muggle film works fine." Anna Lupin grinned gleefully and took a picture of me. The picture poped out of the bottom of the camera and my mother took it. After a few minutes I appeared in the picture smiling bashfully and running my hands through my hair.

"Oh it's marvellous!"

I grinned and had a look at the other presents that were for me. There were only two, a pair of socks (with snowmen on sadly) from my Aunt (on my father's side) who lived in Australia, and a small bottle of Elf wine from the Tonkses. I smiled and looked at the card.

_Dear Remus, _

_It was lovely to see you in September. I hope you'll visit us again after Christmas. You have to break this habit of yours of only seeing us once every four months. How are things in Ireland? _

_Have a very Merry Christmas, _

_Lots of love Andromeda, Ted and Nyphadora_ (which had been crossed out and replaced with 'Tonks', written in her untidy scrawl)

Included in their Christmas card was a picture of all three of them. I looked at the picture and couldn't help but smile. Andromeda was holding Ted's arm and looking straight at me, a smart smile on her face. Ted was sneaking a sideways glance at his wife with an expression on his face that said 'I still can't believe she is my wife!', and Nymphadora stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot and looking somewhat impatient. He hair was long and a dark chocolatey brown and she was wearing robes that looked much too formal to be her own. I suspect her uncharacteristically neat appearance was why she was looking grumpy. However, despite her sour expression she looked very pretty.

My mother and I drove to my uncle's house in the car that Dung still had not collected, my mother complaining about my poor driving the whole way.

"It's a wonder you made it from Oxford in one piece!" She chided as I struggled to get the car into fourth gear.

"I don't drive very often. I'm a wizard, we prefer broomsticks to gearsticks." I retorted.

"Well whatever, your clutch control is terrible." She complained. I groaned and revved the car in frustration.

"Nita, said Karen will be there today. How long has it been since you saw Karen?"

"Oh, twelve or thirteen years I should think." I replied, breaking as I approached the round-a-bout.

"She's twenty two now, and getting married."

"At twenty two?"

"Don't be getting all high and mighty now, I was married at twenty two."

"Things are different now. People take longer to grow up."

"Being grown up has nothing to do with marriage. Do you imagine I was grown up when I got married?"

"Are you now?"

"That is precisely my point. Go on Remus, the way is clear."

I stalled.

"Oh for the love of God..."

"You are making me nervous!" I insisted as I stalled again. The car behind me beeped. At last I got the car in gear and pulled onto the round-a-bout, only the way was no longer clear and I had to accelerate with force to avoid being hit by another car.

"Jaysus! Remus are you trick-acting or what?"

"I already told you: I don't like driving." I responded calmly.

"How the hell did you manage to drive from Oxford?"

"I didn't have someone constantly berating me when I drove from Oxford."

"Eh! Don't ye be so bold! I don't care that you're thirty one, I'll still box yer ears."

Thankfully we arrived at my uncle's a few minutes later. We entered with gifts and were greeted with cheers and hugs and kisses. There were fourteen adults there, three children and a baby. It was fortunate that Paddy and his wife Mary had a huge house. The oldest of the Gallagher siblings was George. He was a businessman and a traveller. He had been married three times, his current wife was a Finn called Anya, twelve years his junior, who had a smile that could make grown men weak at the knees. At least, that's what it did to George.

Next was Paddy and my mother who were twins. Paddy's wife Mary, was a plump jovial woman, and it was she (with help from her sister in law Nita) who made Christmas dinner. It was Paddy and Mary's daughter, Julia who had the baby. Julia was the same age as me, but had succeeded in every area where I had failed. She was a school teacher at a nice private school, was married to Bill, a muggle doctor, and had just had a baby.

The last of the Gallagher siblings was John, a shameless man married to Nita, the most talkative woman in the whole of Ireland. They had one daughter, Karan, and one son, Stephan, who was probably the black sheep (yes, you heard me right, the black sheep was not me). Stephan gambled and drank to an embarrassing degree, and did nothing to make himself likeable. His wife, Gillian, was quite the opposite; in fact Nita often said, should Gill and Stephan separate, she'd keep Gill and disown Stephan. Gill and Stehpan had three children, whose names I could never remember, so in my head I called them 'the good', 'the bad' and 'the ugly'. Then of course there was Jack Lupin, the other wizard. He spent most of the day asleep on the armchair in the corner, his purple wizard's hat drooped over his eyes when it wasn't in the hands of the children.

Like all family Christmases, it went on too long, so I won't recount it blow by blow, I'll just describe the events that best characterise Christmas with my family.

Event number one:

"How are you then Remus? Last night was a full moon wasn't it." Julia asked me as she cradled her baby in her arms. It was, without a doubt, the ugliest baby I had ever seen. Unnecessarily chubby, purple with a face that reminded me of a sick pig I had nursed when I was a child.

"I am alright, a bit tired, but otherwise fine." I replied. Julia' s baby whimpered, so she cooed at him.

"His name's Patrick, after dad." She told me. Bill approached us, taking a moment to pat his wife's shoulder and gaze lovingly at his baby. He shook my hand and and asked how I was.

"Isn't he lovely?" Julia continued, still looking at her baby.

"Yes." I agreed politely.

"Wanna hold him?" Bill asked automatically. Julia shot him a glare and discreetly shook her head, as if I couldn't see. Bill's eyes widened with realisation as he remembered. He turned back to me and smiled a very fake looking smile.

"Actually best not," he said, laughing slightly to cover up his awkwardness, "he's a bit grouchy, probably needs changing...let's go Julia..."

The couple and their child shuffled off, taking their baby a safe distance away from the werewolf. I took a deep breath and swallowed my pride.

Event number two:

As we ate dinner in the gigantic dining room, when Nita had got bored of talking about Karan's wedding dress with Mary, she asked me about my love life.

"Anyone special in your life Remus?" She asked, her thin, too-tanned face split into a toothy smile.

"Er, no. Not at the moment." I said looking intently at my brussel sprouts. I hated those sodding things, at least there were only two on my plate.

"Ach, well you better find someone soon, it's your turn next." Nita said. I stabbed one of the bussel sprouts on my place with more viciousness than was necessary.

"My turn?" I said as politely as I could, still not taking my eyes from the blasted sprout.

"Well you're the last of the children still unmarried." Nita said before she put a forkful of turkey loaded with cranberry sauce into her mouth.

"That's not true, my Paul's not married." George interjected from a few seats down.

"That feckin' piss artist doesn't count." Nita snapped back. George called Nita a string of things I cannot repeat.

"George! There are children present!" Mary scolded while Nita looked smug, George fumed and the children giggled, no doubt committing every expletive to memory. I hoped Nita had forgotten about me, and would talk about something else, but sadly her fetish for telling people how to live their lives, left no room for forgetfulness...

"Anyway, you'd better get to it Remus, none of us are getting any younger." She said pointing her fork at me while I put a brussel sprout in my mouth so I didn't have to answer.

"Leave him be Nita." My mother warned gently.

"Oh, he doesn't mind, do you Remus?" She said. Sadly, I couldn't answer because I was still chewing on the rubbery tasteless mass that was the brussel sprout. "Besides, you agree, don't you Anna? Surely you want to see some grandchildren, before you pop your clogs?"

"All I want to see is Remus happy." My mother replied tactfully, hoping that would end the conversation.

"What are you old crones' smoking?" Stephan said gruffly with his mouth full. "Remus ain't gonna have any kids."

"Oh? And why's that?" Nita said, glaring a her son with the fierceness of a Basilisk.

"'Cos he's 'the beast' in'ee?" Stephan said, his speech slurring slightly. "No wan in her right mind is gonna do the dirty with a man with furr and fangs."

I struggled to swallow the brussel sprout.

"Shut your feckin' trap, Stephan!" Gill yelled at her husband.

"Keep your opinions to yourself you useless lump o' lard!" Nita added. My mother bit her lip and shot a comforting glance at me.

"You'll make a wonderful husband one day, Remus. Don't listen to this gobshite here." Gill said, looking at me with genuine kindness. Paddy cleared his throat loudly.

"Julia, tell us about that new job of yours." He said, successfully changing the topic. I looked down at my plate. To my horror, two more brussel sprouts had appeared there. My eyes narrowed in confusion. Then I heard some stifled giggling to my left. I looked round to see the bad and the ugly smiling innocently at me, their plates suspiciously sprout-free.

Event three:

"Well, say you were going to travel into the past. While that event might be in your personal future, for everyone else that event is in the past and has already happened. For example, say you are going to go back and start the French revolution. For you now, you haven't done it yet, because you haven't travelled back in time yet. But for everyone else, the French revolution has already happened. Now, given that this is the case, it would seem that everything you _will_ do when you travel back, has already happened, so everything you will do is fixed, so how can your actions be free?"

John looked at me blankly for a few seconds, then, speaking very slowly he said, "so, in my future I will start the French revolution, but...that's in the past, so I've already done it..."

"Yes." I said, smiling. John's nose wrinkled and he scratched his head.

"I get it." Gill said, leaning over with the good sitting on her lap playing with her necklace. "You're saying that your can't change the past, because it's already happened."

"Exactly yes." I said taking a sip of my third (or fourth?) glass of champagne (Merlin I love champagne).

"But what if I go back and don't start the French revolution and then just everyone's memories change?" Gill added, as the good abandoned the necklace and tried to take out one of Gill's earrings.

"I don't think that would happen. Hmm, let me give you another example." I said starting to enjoy myself. "You go into the past and meet your grandfather. Is it possible for you to kill him before he met your grandmother? If you did, one of your parents would never have been conceived and so neither would you. So you would never have existed. But then, if you never existed, you would never have travelled back to kill your grandfather in the first place. I think, given that you _do_ exist that makes it impossible to kill your grandfather, so try as you might, you can never kill him."

"But, what if it's like _Back to the Future_ and I just disappear after I kill my grandfather?" Gill asked.

"If you kill your grandfather, you don't just disappear after you've killed him, you were never born, you never existed. So, there would be no-one to kill your grandfather. I think, given that

you are the one who is trying to kill your grandfather, you obviously exist, and so the person you are trying to kill must survive in order to have grandchildren, so that one of those grandchildren can try to kill him."

"So if I shot my grandfather in the face, would it just, I dunno, bounce of his face or something?" Gill asked, batting the good's hand away from her ear.

"No, I think it would be more likely that there would be some strange coincidence that stopped your grandfather from dying. Like your grandmother was actually sleeping around, and the man you thought was your grandfather wasn't actually."

At this point Paddy came over and dragged me to my feet.

"Stop boring her Remus and come and play Charades."

I groaned, "but I hate Charades..."

Event four:

We were half way through Charades. Half of my team (Gill, the good, my mother, and Paddy) were asleep, and most of the other team (the bad, the ugly, Mary and Karan) had lost interest.

"This is boring!" The ugly yelled out. I ignored him and continued doing the action for film.

"Can you do some magic?" The bad asked me.

"Yeah! Do magic!" The ugly yelled as well, abandoning the christmas present he had already broken.

"That's an idea." Mary said smiling.

"Oh..." I grumbled. "It's not technically allowed..." Wizard's weren't supposed to do magic in front of muggles.

"Go on Remus." My mother said, trying not to look as excited as the children, "We're all family here."

"Erm, alright..." I said as I looked around the room for inspiration. I pulled my wand from my pocket. And shot some red sparks out of it to warm up. The children laughed in anticipation. It did feel a bit cheap: I wasn't some muggle magician, my abilities shouldn't be used for entertainment; but it was nice to know that I was the source of the children's smiles.

"Hmm. What first?" I pointed my wand at the cushion next to the ugly and transfigured it into a rabbit. The ugly squeaked with shock while the good jumped down to pet it, and the others clapped.

I raised my wand and calmly said, "_Avis_." Two robins flew out of my wand and circled the room to the muggle's entertainment. I directed my wand at the window and opened it with a flick, then sent the birds outside. I was good at conjuring spells, so I conjured some little silver stars and hung them in the air above everyone heads.

"Very festive." Mary said, while Karan pulled one out of the air and held it for a while. Then she let it go and it slowly drifting back towards the ceiling like a tiny helium-filled balloon.

"Paddy, can you tap dance?"

"I cannot."

"Stand up." I said, politely. Paddy grinned and obeyed.

"_Tarantallegra._" I said with a light swish of my wand so the spell wouldn't be too aggressive. And Paddy started to do a jolly little tap dance.

"Hells' bells!" He exclaimed though laughs as everyone else clapped. Then I enchanted the children's action figures to stand on the coffee table and sing Christmas carols.

Everyone looked suitably impressed and applauded.

"Er...Remus, how do you stop?" Paddy asked me, when he began to lok a bit red in the face.

"Oh, sorry, Paddy. _Finite._" I said pointing my wand at his legs. Paddy stopped dancing with a sigh of relief.

"Here, with my sincere apologies," I said, then I conjured a bunch of flowers, wandlessly from behind his ear in true magician style. My audience laughed. And I bowed, signalling the end of the show.

Event Five:

The children were being put to bed finally, Paddy, John and George were in the kitchen washing up; Nita, Mary and Karan were upstairs doing something wedding related and I was snoozing on the sofa waiting to go home, when Gill fell into the space next to me. I opened my eyes and saw Jack still asleep on the armchair now wearing a santa hat instead of his wizard's one.

"Why am I married to such an arse?" Gill asked me. I could smell the whiskey on her breath.

"Seriously, why is a kind, understanding man like you single, while that fat eejit is married with three kids?" Gill complained, looking at me with large brown eyes.

"Well, because you married him." I said.

"I bloody wish I hadn't." She said. She was only half joking, which made me nervous. Gill sighed and leaned back, then took my hand in hers. I wandered whether that was appropriate.

"I'm sorry about what he said at dinner." She told me looking just to the left of my eyes. I wandered if she was seeing double.

"It's fine don't worry about it." I said, trying to shuffle away from her.

"No it's not fine. You deal with it so stoically even though it must be terrible, and then with what's been going on with your mother, and loosing your job, things must be really tough for you at the moment," she said her voice thick with sadness or drink, "and then he goes and says something like that..."

"It's alright, really." I said. "Wait – what's going on with my mother?" I added, but Gill ignored me.

"He's talking bollocks anyway." She said pulling my hand over her shoulder so she could rest against my chest. "I'd 'do the dirty' with you if I weren't married. Hell, give me one more drink and I'll do it anyway." I blushed and Gill fell asleep, trapping me underneath her. After a while feeling awkward I fell asleep as well, and let Gill snuggle up to me a bit. It felt nice to have a woman close to me, even if it was my cousin's wife. There's no better cure for post transformation aches and pains, or any sort of aches and pains for that matter, than the feel of a warm female body cuddled around your own. I was woken by my mother's pointed cough. I gave her an innocent smile and shrugged, which woke Gill who sat up, looked confused for a bit and then smiled at my mother and me.

"Are you two off then?" She said, acting as if she hadn't just been using my chest as a pillow.

"Yes, it's getting late." My mother said. "Are you okay to drive, Remus?"

"I should be now, yes." I said standing up. We said our goodbyes and thank-yous and got into the car.

"I hope you didn't overstep any boundaries." My mother said smirking slightly as I started the engine.

"Of course not. I have far too many moral standards." I said.

"You hadn't had enough to drink, you mean." My mother quipped as I pulled away.

I gave a small sigh, "I think it would be more correct to say she hadn't had enough to drink."

Trick-acting = messing around

piss artist = alcoholic

wan = woman


	9. A Tweedy Tonks

This chapter is quite sad in places (amusing in others I hope), but as with most of the rest of this story, Lupin is feeling the same way I am: lonely and in desperate desperate need of rescuing by a flamboyant exciting personality that will get him out of his own head. Fortunately (for Lupin, sadly not me), such a rescue is around the corner, as in the next two chapters Lupin will be starting teaching at Hogwarts which means...dun duh-nah dun...Sirius is back!

Chapter 9

When the new year came I decided to help out a local farmer, more for something to do than for the money. It was hard work, but it had its benefits: I was so tired at the end of the day to keep myself awake worrying about things, so I was sleeping much better.

I posted my letter to Tonks just after Christmas. She took a while to reply. It was nearing March when I received a letter written in her bizarrely irregular handwriting. She apologised for the late reply and told me that it was because she had been immersed in an intense duelling course and had been spending every free moment nursing her wounds. But she would be 'delighted' to meet with me to talk about her dissertation and was 'eternally grateful' that I was willing to help her. We arranged to meet in a pub called The Hag's Head in the Wizarding quarter of Strabane. I was there a little early, so bought a drink and sat down in one of the little booths. The pub was noisey which I was grateful for, because whilst the war was over, and Tonks and I wouldn't be talking about anything top secret, we would be talking about things that suggested we knew things that were top secret, so it was fortunate that the noise of the pub would cover up anything we had to say.

I drank my drink and listened to the couple arguing in the next booth.

"The matter has got to come from somewhere! Wizards can't just create matter. We are not gods."

"I agree. But conjuring is not transfiguration. Why would they be called different things if they are the same."

"But it _is_ transfiguration. You just can't see what's being transfigured, cos it's air or something."

I lost interest so turned my attention to the two young quidditch fans at the bar (I could tell as they were both wearing Falmouth Falcons t-shirts).

"How many quidditch players does it take to light a wand?" The one said to the other.

"I dunno, how many?" The other said dutifully.

"Seven. Six to work their arse's off, and a seeker to take all the credit."

I tittered to myself. That was an old joke. I remember James telling it to us at school. James was just as good a seeker as he was a chaser, but he preferred to play chaser because it was a more active position he said. However, he very much disliked anyone getting more prestige than himself, so was not terribly fond of seekers. I had read in the paper a while ago that Harry was a seeker on the school team. I wonder what James would have said. Suddenly a middle aged woman with greying brown hair and wearing apple green tweed robes, approached my table.

"Mr Lupin?" She asked.

"That's me." I replied, slightly confused. The woman sat down next to me and smiled broadly.

"Wotcher." She said. I blinked a couple of times at the stranger.

"Can I help you?" I said politely. The woman gave me a confused look.

"Huh?" She said. "You are Remus Lupin aren't you?"

"I am, but, who are you?" I said.

"Tonks!" She said as if it were obvious.

"Sorry?" Was all I could say as I stared blankly at the woman. She stared back at me with the same look of confusion. Then, suddenly, her eyes became as wide as saucers.

"Oh! Yeah, I look different." She said, gesturing to her appearance. "Sorry. Moody wants to know how long I can hold a morph for. I told him I can hold it for as long as I'm awake, but he wants me to test it."

"I see." I said after a fairly long pause while I got up to speed. Tonks talked and moved very fast, which made me feel slow and old. "Can you prove to me that you are Tonks?"

"Merlin's beard, you are as paranoid as Moody." She said, sounding genuinely shocked, but she got out her ministry ID to show me.

"Can you not remain morphed when you are asleep then?" I added after I was satisfied she was who she said she was.

"Well, it depends..." Tonks replied. "If it's just a nap then I usually can, but if it's a proper sleep then no." I looked closely at her, there was not a millimetre of her that looked like the picture Andromeda had showed me at the Leaky Caldron, or the picture form the Christmas card. If truth be told, I was a little disappointed not to be meeting the pink-haired version of herself.

"Anyway," Tonks said pointedly, obviously having noticed me staring at her. I looked at her eyes, desperate to stop looking like an idiot, but her eyes looked exactly like my own, and at once I was staring again like a gobsmacked child.

"Mr Lupin? Are you aright?" She asked.

"Er," I said leaning closer to her to examine her eyes, forgetting that she was an actual human being who probably didn't like to be examined like a particularly complicated map. She coughed quietly. I shook away my awe.

"I'm sorry. It's just, your eyes look _exactly_ like mine. It's very strange – like looking in a mirror."

"Do they?" She said and she blushed slightly. "Oh, sorry. I must be imitating them by mistake." She closed her eyes for a moment and when they opened them they were round and green, not at all like my own. I smiled.

"Thanks so much for meeting with me, Mr Lupin, I know I'm asking you a huge favour here." She then said.

"Not at all." I replied. "And you can call me Remus."

"Thanks." She said brushing her brown hair behind her ears. "You can't call me Nymphadora. I don't let anyone call me that because the sound of it makes me want to vomit."

"Oh." I managed.

"Er...sorry, I talk too much." She said, blushing again.

"No, it's just, I quite like it." I admitted, hoping that I wasn't also blushing.

"Really?" Tonks asked her eyes narrowed suspiciously. When I nodded she added, "you must be as mad as my mother." Then apparently she felt bad for calling me mad so said, "see what I mean about talking too much."

I smiled,"it's fine." I already liked her too much. "Will you stay in this form for the duration of our meeting?"

"Yeah. Moody would know if I cheated." She said. I hid my disappointment behind a nod. "Anyway, um, I know the questions I asked in the letter were a bit vague. What I'm looking for is a few more details of the Potters' involvement in the war, from a more personal perspective. I don't want to speculate about how and why you-know-who met his end that day, because that's what everyone expects. I want to write that the family that ultimately brought down you-know-who were people who valued friendship and family above all else. Well, that's the impression I've got from my research so far. And this is the moral we should take from their story. This is what enabled them to defend themselves from dark magic."

"Your impression is correct." I said, "but it wasn't _just_ their values that defended them from dark magic. It was their confidence that they were doing the right thing. James and Lily believed with they whole hearts that the discrimination against muggles and muggle-borns was wrong. Most wizards don't have the certainty in their convictions that James and Lily Potter did. In my mind, most wizards' reluctance to disregard old prejudices against muggle-borns was what weakened our side in the war. A soldier who is not sure what he is doing is right, is always weaker than one who is absolutely sure. And the other side, were most definitely absolutely sure."

"You sound like a general or something." Tonks said getting a notebook and a quill form her bag. I gave a wry smile. "Were you one?" She asked, seeing my smile. I said nothing; we weren't here to talk about _my_ involvement in the war. But my silence told Tonks everything. She grinned with excitement.

We got to talking about James, who was a pure-blood, but because of what despicable things most pure-bloods were doing at the time, was almost ashamed of his ancestry and would rather die than become a Death Eater.

"He must have been very brave though, to say no." Tonks said, her quill that she had charmed to take down notes scribbling away. "I mean, I would have resisted as well, in a heartbeat, but I recognise the fact that doing so would have been dangerous. They might have killed him for saying no."

"Yes. He was brave. He was willing to die for what he believed in." I said. "But then, Death Eaters were dying for what they believed in as well. We don't call them brave." Tonks tongue was sticking out of her mouth as she concentrated on what I had just said. It looked so strange to see a middle aged woman sit leaning on her elbows with her tongue poking out of her mouth, I almost laughed.

"I've never thought of that." She said eventually. I was pleased she hadn't misunderstood my speculations as signs of sympathy towards death eaters.

"James was brave. But, for me James' bravery wasn't the important thing. For me, it was his sincere and unprejudiced way of deciding right from wrong.

James always followed his gut. Sometimes, that wasn't a good thing. He was always in trouble at school, and was horrendously untactful. But, when it came to morality, his heart was always in the right place. Love and friendship and family were good, and anything that tried to harm that was bad. It was as simple as that for James."

"Was it not as simple for you?" Tonks asked. I smiled to hide my true feelings. No, was the answer. For James, fighting for what he thought right made him happy, he was praised for it, he was loved for it. For me, fighting Voldemort didn't make me happy, it didn't get me praise and it certainly didn't get me love. In fact, most of the time, it got me the opposite.

"Sorry. Um, that was a kind of personal question." She said, looking down at the notes her quill had been taking to avoid looking at me. "Um, can you tell me how else he stood up to you-know-who?"

"I can't tell you everything." I said softly. "Some things...are still secret."

"Of course. I understand." Tonks said, licking her lips slightly nervously.

"I'll tell you what I can."

I told Tonks about how James, although he never become an auror himself (partly so that he could spend more time with Lily and Harry) helped with their investigations whenever and however he could. I didn't tell Tonks that both James and Lily were members of the Order of the Phoenix along with Moody and myself. I told Tonks that James defended the rights of half-humans like werewolves and campaigned against their being called 'dark creatures' as that wrongly associated them with dark magic, and encouraged half-humans not to join you-know-who. I didn't tell Tonks I was one of these 'dark creatures'.

"It was their love of their friends really that gave them the strength to stand up to you-know-who, as you put it." I concluded and Tonks nodded as she looked down at her notes. "Though, that's also what caused their deaths..." I added without really meaning to. Suddenly the memory of the night I found out the Potters were dead hit me, and I felt breathless. I hadn't been in the country when it happened. By the time I returned, Peter Pettigrew was also dead, Sirius Black in Azkaban and Harry with his aunt and uncle. I hardly remember Dumbledore telling me I had lost everyone that mattered most to me. I remember him telling me to sit down. I remember the burning furious pain ripping through every part of my body when he told me. I remember begging him to tell me he was lying. I remember the scream that escaped me when he wouldn't. I couldn't cry. Crying somehow wasn't enough. I needed to _scream_. I have never before, or since, broken down like that in front of another person. In fact, I would be embarrassed if anyone other than Dumbledore knew how I had lost all composure in that moment. So I have never spoken to anyone about just how much it hurt.

I sensed Tonks looking at me so I looked towards her. Perhaps the distress the momentary reliving of my worst memory had brought, showed on my face, because she was regarding me with kind and respectful sympathy.

"You are talking about Sirius Black." She said gently. It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway.

"I know about that. He is my second cousin." She said, her eyes soft with sadness. "You said James was almost ashamed of his heritage, well, I most definitely am ashamed of mine. One side of it anyway." Tonks was looking away from me now, at a group of boys arguing over which broomstick was the fastest. I said nothing and fingered the edge of the empty glass in front of me.

"When my mother found of what he did, she was utterly heart broken." Tonks continued after a long silence. "He was the only relative of hers that she spoke to." Tonks look back towards me with sad eyes.

"I was only a child at the time, but I remember it quite clearly." She said looking at me as if for permission to continue, she wasn't sure she should be telling me something that was clearly quite private. In truth, while dredging up these memories stung like salt in a wound, it felt nice to talk to someone who had experienced the events first hand.

"I remember my mother being very upset. And I was angry at Black for that. Though I didn't really understand what he had done at the time." She continued, my silence obviously being permission enough. "When I discovered the truth of it later, my anger increased, but...Is it wrong for me to be telling you this? I mean, does it not upset you?"

"No. I mean, it does. But it is not wrong." I replied honestly, my voice calm and devoid of all emotion, as it always was when emotions were rife within me. Tonks gave me a small nervous smile and licked her lips again.

"Well, er, yes, it made me angry, but, part of me couldn't believe it." Tonks said, her voice quiet but full of emotion. "I remember Black, he was...so kind. It didn't seem right." I still said nothing, but my heart was beating fast. Tonks was admitting feelings I myself had had, and it seemed to validate them, and this validation brought such comfort and relief. Tonks just sighed and looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Anyway," Tonks said, waving her hands around trying to brush away the awkwardness between us, "I'm not going to write about that in my paper." There was long silence between us. I didn't want to break it, because I knew breaking the silence would mark the beginning of the end of our conversation, and in a rather pathetic sort of way, I didn't want Tonks to leave. Tonks didn't share my feelings, because she broke the silence.

"Remus," she said, looking straight at my eyes, which made me feel quite naked, "I cannot thank you enough for helping me. You might say it was nothing, but I know that's just you being polite. I know it wasn't nothing. So thank you."

I couldn't say anything. Somehow, about ten minutes ago, the speech centres of my brain packed up and left. In their place was a mushy pink splodge of brain matter that cried out 'don't let her go don't let her go don't let her go'. I was quite disgusted by my sudden neediness. But, this was the first time in months – no, years – that I felt like if I voiced that mad ramble in my head, the recipient would actually, at least vaguely, understand what I was talking about, and perhaps even sympathise with the worries and insecurities imbedded in the ramble. Of course, this feeling was completely illusory. If I did voice the ramble, Tonks wouldn't understand and would think I was mad, because a) the ramble is incomprehensible and b) I _am_ mad.

I have been silent for too long. Tonks is giving me strange looks.

"It was nothing." I said, then immediately cursed in my head because she just told me not to say that. "Er! I mean..." I added trying to back track. Tonks just laughed at me.

"It's alright." She said. Then she packed away her quill and notebook, and stood up. I stood up as well. She shook my hand and thanked me again. Then she said good bye and walked out of my life. Probably forever.


	10. Just Dinner

Someone once said that when you are stuck for what to write, have a character walk in with a gun and go from there. Well, I've always been a 'make love not war' kind of girl, so um, that's why this chapter turned out the way it did.

Chapter 10

We fell onto her bed pausing from our kisses only to take deep titillated breaths and to giggle as we knocked things over in our eagerness. Her bedside lamp, a vase of flowers, her cat.

"Thank you for dinner, professor." She said as she sat astride me and pulled off my tie.

"It was my pleasure." I murmured back as I slid my hands under her dress. She had such a svelte figure, like a ballet dancer; I had been admiring it all through dinner, it felt wonderful to finally be able to run my hands along its smooth curves. She unbuttoned my shirt, then helped me remove her dress. I leaned up slightly and pulled her lips onto mine, then gently flipped us both around so that I was on top of her. Her sleek black hair fanned across the pillow and her lipstick stained lips parted in an inviting smile that cried out to be kissed. Before I could satisfy her lips' silent pleas however, she let out a small shriek.

"Merlin Remus! Is that your wand or am I in for a very good time?" She said grinning broadly. I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.

"Er, actually that _is_ my wand." I said, and I pulled it from my trouser pocket. She just laughed and took it from me, she gave it a quick wave to dim the lights then left it on her bedside table where the lamp had been. Then she pulled me towards her for that kiss her lips had been desperate for.

There were three reasons why I shouldn't be doing this. One, she was my boss; two, this was a complication I really couldn't handle at the moment; and three, although it was quite obvious she wasn't looking for anything serious, and quite possibly wouldn't want our liaison to extend beyond tonight, there was my 'fury little problem': she was a school teacher, a mother of two and a respected woman, if anyone found out she was nibbling a werewolf's earlobe she would be ruined. But, as Sirius always used to say 'you are a clever bloke, but as soon as a woman gets involved you turn into a complete and utter moron'.

But, I am getting ahead of myself. I need to explain how I ended up in this unwise but absolutely delicious situation.

It was October, and a lot had happened since I met Tonks back in March.

From March until July, I spent my days working on the farm near my mother's house, and my evenings feeling bitter, alone and really quite pessimistic about my future. On the seventeenth of July however, I received an unexpected letter from Albus Dumbledore himself. I had heard that his Defence against the Dark Art's teacher, Quirrell I think his name was, had reached a sticky end, but never in a million years had I expected Dumbledore to ask me to be his replacement. I had to read the letter several times to believe it. It wasn't until I was about to floo to Diagon Ally to discuss the possibility with Dumbledore, that my excitement at possibly becoming the next DADA professor faded, and was replaced by anxiety. I didn't have a lot of teaching experience. In my twenties I was a transfiguration tutor, for young witches and wizards taking their OWLs, and I had been a tutor of philosophy at Oxford, but in both these positions I was teaching only one or two students at a time. At Hogwarts I would be teaching a whole class. To be fair to myself, I had taught a class of twenty for a year before Oxford; but that was at a wizarding primary school teaching maths, so no teenagers and no magic, which is something they had in abundance at Hogwarts.

However, when I outlined my teaching experience, or lack thereof, to Dumbledore, he didn't seem perturbed. We were sitting at one of the tables outside Florean Fortescue's enjoying iced coffee (mine) and mango sorbet with raspberry sauce (Dumbledore's), with the sun dousing us in it's warm golden glow. I rather thought it would be impossible for anyone to feel perturbed in these conditions, but apparently the weather wasn't why Dumbledore wasn't concerned by my lack of experience.

"Remus, you have more teaching experience than the other candidates put together, and quite a bit more practical experience against dark magic as well," Dumbledore said, popping a spoonful of sorbet into his mouth, and looking at me through his spectacles that he had magically tinted to protect his pale blue eyes from the sun. Next to Dumbledore, in his silver robes, with his long white beard and sunglasses, I felt distinctly uncool.

"Most of the more experienced professors I have approached, refuse to take the job." Dumbledore explained. "They are afraid they will meet the same unfortunate end as poor Quirrell."

"But, that is surely an event unlikely to repeat itself." I said, though I didn't really know what happened to Quirrell, and Dumbledore, it seemed wasn't in the mood to enlighten me.

"Exactly. It is a shame most wizards are not as logical as you, Remus." Dumbledore said taking another spoonful of sorbet. I took a gulp of my coffee to hide the embarrassment I felt at being complimented by the greatest Wizard of the century.

"So," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly, "would you be interested in becoming our new defence against the dark arts professor?"

"Yes," I replied at once, with perhaps too much eagerness. "Teaching at Hogwarts has been a dream of mine for years; it would be an honour to take the job." Dumbledore beamed and finished his ice-cream.

"In that case, I shall forward you the appropriate documents and await your formal acceptance." The old man said. "Of course, there is still time if you want to change your mind. I don't need the forms back until August the seventh."

"I can't imagine why I would change my mind." I said taking another swig of coffee. Dumbledore just smiled and finished his ice cream.

"Well, now that business is dealt with, tell me how you have been since we last met." Dumbledore was looking at me with meaningful concern. I smiled a pathetic sort of smile in return.

The last time Dumbledore had seen me, I was in quite a poor state, and he helped me get back to work (it was Dumbledore who helped me get the job as a maths teacher). Considering how much Dumbledore had helped me in the past, I felt guilty telling him that I was unemployed again. But as always, Dumbledore smiled kindly, and exuded optimism. When I left and went back to Ireland, I felt absolutely jubilant.

But the second I stepped out of the fireplace and into my mother's kitchen, my good mood came crashing painfully down. My mother had been sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me. Her pale thin face was blotchy and swollen around the eyes; evidence that she had been crying. She looked at me, and her expression was strangely sympathetic. My intestines instantly vanished and were replaced by an army of angry squirming snakes.

"Remus, why don't you sit down. I have something to tell you." My mother said. I did as I was told. Part of me already knew what she was going to say. She had done well to hide it, but there was no denying she had looked ill ever since I moved back home. And in the last few weeks she had got decidedly worse. She was coughing more, her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and even in hot weather like today she had to wear two jumpers. I suddenly realised how selfish I had been not to confront her about it sooner. I was afraid the news would be bad so I never questioned her. I chose ignorance to save myself any pain that might come with knowing what was really going on, and by doing so I let her deal with it by herself. I felt weak with guilt.

"I have cancer Remus." She said. I didn't say anything. My heart was beating so fast it had numbed my tongue.

"I first contracted it last year. I had chemo and it went into remission. But, um, the cancer has come back, and, they say this time, there is nothing really they can cancer is too aggressive."

After a long uncomfortable silence, I said, "You should have told me. I should have asked."

"You have enough worries already," my mother said, looking much calmer than I felt, "I didn't want to add to them."

"But, there are magical treatments for this sort of thing." I said slightly angrily, "had you told me, I could have got you help." Magical treatments for cancer were not much better than muggle treatments, and if the muggle doctors said it was too late for muggle treatment, then it would also be too late for magical treatment.

"Magic and medicine are just the same: they only delay the inevitable." My mother said stoically. "Besides how could I afford to pay a wizard to help me?"

"I would have helped with that." I said, though realistically I don't know if I would have been able to.

"No!" my mother said, holding up a hand like traffic police do to stop cars, "the only way you could afford to help me is if you stopped buying your wolfsbane, I wouldn't let you do that."

"I can live without wolfsbane," I said, my voice raising in both volume and pitch, "you...you won't live without treatment."

"I wont live with it either. And I don't want to spend my last months in pain."

"_Months_?" I said, my hands starting to tremble. "You only have _months_?"

"That's what the doctors reckon." My mother said, her face stoney and unemotional. My breath hitched in my throat and I felt momentarily dizzy. I stood up and paced the room for a few minutes while I took in this new information. I imagined what the coming months would be like. I would not be able to take the job at Hogwarts that was for sure. I would have to stay at home and look after my mother as she got sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker. The image of my mother dying made my throat grow dry and my eyes grow wet.

"Y-you are all I have!" I said eventually. "What will I do without you?"

"You will get by. Just as you always have done. You are brave Remus, and much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You will be fine."

I shook my head, "how can you be so sure?" I felt angered by her assumption that I would just be able to get over her death. It felt like she was making out her death to be unimportant to me. How could she say I would be fine? Did she not remember how poorly I was able to deal with death the first time?

"You remember those two years I was in hospital, don't you?" I added quietly. I didn't want to say more than this. I didn't really know what I was trying to do bringing it up anyway. Trying to make my mother feel guilty for having cancer? Ha! It's no wonder I ended up in that hospital – that _mental_ hospital – all those years ago. I do not think about the 18 months I spent there. I do not think about why I needed to be there. I do not let myself. If I slip into those old habits of thinking I know I'll just end up back there.

"You got through that Remus! That is why you are strong!" My mother insisted, waving her hands around emphatically. "So many men when faced with those sorts of demons would give up, so many men would let the demons kill them. But you didn't! You fought them with everything you had and you won! I know things are still hard for you, but look how much better you are now."

"But I...I only got better...because of you..." I said. I remember how she stayed with my in hospital when she could. I remember her physically yanking me from the bed when I refused to get up, and pouring soup down my throat when I refused to eat. I was so difficult back then, but she didn't give up.

"You got better because of you Remus, not me." She said. "You did all the hard work yourself." With most reactive mental illnesses, to get better, you have to delve into your own thoughts and perform an elaborate sterilisation process. You have to eradicate the negative and save the positive, banish the irrational and keep the realistic, arrest the self-destructive and begin the self-perserving. It sounds easy, but it is not. And no-one can really help you. Doctors say they do. But they don't. In the end you have to just do it yourself. I presume my mother was trying to say that if I did it once, I could do it again, if I needed to. But, my problem was, I don't ever again want to be in the position to need to! So what if I know an escape route from Hell, that doesn't mean I don't mind going there.

"This is not fair." I said sitting back down at the table. My mother took my hand and agreed. She was the one dying and there she was comforting me. I had never felt so pathetic.

So I didn't take the job at Hogwarts. Dumbledore understood, and sent his sympathies. He even got me a job at a secondary school for witches not far from home. I don't know how I will ever repay Dumbledore for the help he has given me. He has always helped me find work and places to live, even though most wizards regarded a half-breed like me with fear and contempt. And now, even though I had failed him by not being able to teach at his school, he still finds me a decent job elsewhere.

Ariadne's Academy for Witches was run by Diana Shacklebolt. Diana knew I was a werewolf, Dumbledore had told her, but as I would go home at the end of each day, and never be near the school on a full moon, she didn't see how it would be a problem. And with good references from Dumbledore and McGonagall, she was happy to have me teach transfiguration. I have to say, this job saved my life. Not only because it meant I was doing something I loved doing again, but it meant I could afford to buy potions to ease my mother's pain. She protested of course, insisting I should use the money to buy wolfsbane. But, by September my mother was too tired to fight back, so I got my way. The lack of wolfsbane was rather troublesome however, because as my mother spent most of her time in bed, she was unable to help me into the chains in the cellar, and if I didn't put them on properly, I woke the next morning with my elbow bones sticking out of my flesh. Not pleasant. But I bandaged them up and got on with things.

By October I had settled into my new routine: I woke at six every morning and made breakfast and lunch for my mother, I charmed them to stay warm and fresh until she was ready to eat and left them in her bedroom, along with a glass full of pain-relieving potion, and my patronus, whom I had instructed to stay by her side should she need an immediate way of contacting me. Casting a patronus so that it would last all day was a pretty rare spell (I had to look it up) and it was very tricky to cast, but it was worth it for my piece of mind. Then I would apparate to a village a few miles form Ariadne's, and walk the rest of the way (like Hogwarts, it was impossible to apparate withint the school grounds). Then, I would return home at the end of the day to care for my mother.

I thoroughly enjoyed teaching, and although transfiguration was a dull and difficult subject, I hoped I made it interesting by teaching the students spells that would be useful to teenage girls – well, ones I imagined would be useful. I got it completely wrong when I tried to teach them how to turn candlesticks into leg-warmers (apparently girls don't wear them anymore), but I was bang on the money when I taught them how to turn their diaries into textbooks. That was actually a marauder-invented spell, rather than one on the curriculum (we didn't use it on diaries as none of us kept one, but we used it on notes we passed to each other in class, or plans for how to booby trap the slytherin's bathroom). I wondered if the marauders would have minded me passing on the secret to a bunch of fifteen year old Irish girls.

After a week or so I had won over most of the students. Though, I think my being the youngest teacher at the school and, apart from the impossibly bad tempered 100 year old astrology professor, the only male teacher had more to do with the student's fondness for me than the spells I was teaching. The blushes and eyelash batting of the sixth years confirmed my suspicions that I was a target for their wayward hormones. Something which I found deeply disturbing and did my best to ignore.

Diana found out about my unconventional curriculum and came to talk about it when school finished one day. When she walked into my classroom I was bent over one of the desks trying to read a message one of the students had carved into the wood, so I didn't see her straight away.

'I love professor Lupin' someone had written, and beneath it someone else had added, 'me too, shame he's gay'. I laughed to myself, and Diana cleared her throat from behind me. I turned around sharply and saw the playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. If I didn't know better, I'd have guessed she had been checking me out whilst I was bent over the desk. Actually, if I didn't know better I'd have said she had been flirting casually with me ever since I got the job. Unnecessarily rubbing my shoulder every time I made a joke, and giving me suggestive glances when she said I had a lot to offer, was flirting right?

Diana Shacklebolt was an undeniably attractive woman. Tall, with large sultry eyes and long dark hair, that she wore scraped back for work. She was a widow in her early forties, so a bit older than me, but she didn't look it. Her coffee coloured skin was soft looking and completely wrinkle-free and she had a figure most women in their twenties would be jealous of. She also possessed a sharp intellect and a puckish sense of humour, that made her seem strongl, but not intimidating. But, no matter how good looking she was or how witty she could be, she was still my boss. It was weird for me to imagine her naked. Wasn't it?

"I've already had complaints from parents about you." She said. Provocative thoughts vanished form my mind and were replaced by dread.

"Did they find out?" I said anxiously, referring to my lycanthropy.

"Oh no." Diana said with a reassuring smile as she walked closer to me. "They are complaining about the spells you've taught their daughters. Apparently, nosey mothers can no longer spy on their daughters by reading their diaries thanks to you."

"Oh." I said, pleased to see that Diana herself didn't disapprove of my helping students protect their secrets. "Am I in trouble?"

"No. I told them I would talk to you about it, and I have." Diana said, continuing to smirk at me. "Case closed."

"Right." I said. There was an awkward pause where we stood looking at each other. Then I moved to collect my briefcase and cloak so I could head home.

"How is your mother?" Diana asked, perching herself on the school desk that claimed I was gay.

"Erm," I said freezing in a half-upright position and staring at the wall, "she is getting worse." I finished standing up and looked towards Diana who was regarding me with an unreadable expression.

"But the process is slow." I continued. "I don't know if that is good or bad." Good because it meant I didn't have to think about her death quite so soon, bad because it meant she had to feel awful for longer. That was the second worst part for me. The worst, was having to do anything that related to when she was going to die, because that forced me to imagine what my life will be like after she has gone. Seeing my mother unable to walk around the house without wincing and clutching her stomach, or being unable to concentrate long enough to even watch a film because the pain was so distracting, or feeling too weak to eat even her favourite foods, or needing me to help her get in and out of the bath, was horrible as well. Especially as she hated it so much. She had always been such an active person. To see her become increasingly debilitated felt so wrong, so unjust. It also frustrated her until she became as moody as I was just before a full moon.

"My husband died of a desease given to him by a Nundu in Tanzania. It was a lot like Malaria, but wouldn't respond to treatment, magical or muggle." Diana told me. "It killed me to watch him get weaker and weaker and not be able to do anything about it."

"I'm sorry." I said quietly. Diana looked at me and smiled kindly.

"Caring for someone you love while they are dying is very hard." She said. "If you ever want to talk...you only have to ask."

"Thank you. That is very kind." I said.

"Anyway, what are you still doing here?" She said, "normally you leave as soon as the bell rings."

"Oh, er my mother's brother and his wife are visiting her today, so I thought I'd stay and get a bit of work done. It is easier for me to work here."

"I see." Diana said. "But, it looks to me like you work too much. Why don't you have dinner with me instead?" I narrowed my eyes at Diana's suggestive smile.

"Are you...are you asking me out?" I asked half incredulously, half hopefully.

"With my sons both at Hogwarts and my husband dead and buried, asking out a handsome young man, who, let's be honest, looks like he hasn't gotten any for almost as long as me, seems the only sensible thing to do."

She had moved a lot closer to me during her little speech and the sensual expression in her her dark brown eyes was very hypnotic.

"I can't." I said, and she waited for an explanation. "Being what I am, makes relationships very difficult..."

"I know." She said, reached towards me to push my hair out of my eyes, "but it is just dinner." She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and licked her lips and I was sold.

So, that's how I ended up in bed with my boss. And as ill-advised as it was, I really needed it. I needed the release, the solace. I was so relaxed after I could barely stay awake. I forced myself to, at least until she stopped talking, because it is generally considered impolite to fall asleep when someone is talking to you.

"Oh, that was yummy." She sighed resting her head against my shoulder. "I didn't expect a man with such a quiet demeanour to be so...adventurous."

"Thank you." I said unable to stop my eyes closing, "I think it might have been a mistake though: my back is starting to hurt already." Diana chuckled, her body jiggling pleasantly against mine.

"You're young, you'll be fine." She said.

"Ah, but I'm werewolf, so, weak spine..." I said, too tired to formulate grammatical sentences.

"About that..." Diana said, "you understand that I'm not looking for anything serious here." I woke up slightly. What did my lycanthropy have to do with her not wanting a boyfriend? Was she implying that, if she were looking for a boyfriend, a werewolf would be her last choice? Why was I surprised? Every girl I had ever met was of this opinion. I _encouraged_ them to have that opinion. The relaxed feeling was quickly leaving me, and my usual melancholy was replacing it.

"You don't mind do you?" She added playing with my hair which was more irritating than comforting.

"No, I don't mind." I said quietly. _I wouldn't have expected any different_, I added in my head.

"It's just, it's too soon for me." She added, her breath ticking my chest, "I just want...a bit of comforting. Do you understand?"

"To ease your stress?"

"Mm, exactly. Do you mind my being upfront about this?"

"Not at all. And, I think I feel the same." As soon as I said it, I wasn't so sure.


	11. The Prisoner Of Azkaban

Sorry it's been a while, I've been away on holiday. Hands up if you are still reading.

Chapter 11

"The Chamber of secrets? I thought that was a myth." I said as I waiting for Diana to bring the tea to the bed upon which I was reclining. Diana returned from the kitchen and guided a tray laden with a pot of tea, two cups, some toast, some butter and some jam to the bed with her wand. She charmed it to levitate above my knees.

"I thought so too," Diana said as she got into the bed beside me, "but apparently it has been opened and the monster that had been trapped inside is now petrifying students."

"Why did you bring toast? It's midnight." I said as Diana grabbed a piece of toast and began buttering it.

"I love midnight feasts." Diana said smiling at me. I nodded, and poured us both some tea.

"What are the alternative explanations?" I asked, always sceptical.

"For my bringing toast?" Diana asked, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"No, for students being petrified." I said, drinking some tea so as not to seem impatient.

"The prophet knows next to nothing about the whole thing. They reckon the students just have a nasty case of Somnus disease." Diana told me, "the Quibbler have their own set of ridiculous ideas, and the other explanations offered by those I've spoken to also seem far fetched. In fact, the chamber of secrets idea, when compared to the others, comes out as the most likely." Diana took a large bite of toast to mark her prowess in deduction. I drank my tea in silence as I thought. My main concern was, predictably, Harry Potter. I knew about the Chamber of Secrets, anyone who's read Hogwarts a History does, so I knew that only the heir of Salazar Slytherin was supposed to be able open it. I also knew that some thought Voldemort was the heir. Of course, with Voldemort being dead, it wasn't likely that he himself was opening the chamber. But what if it was one of his follower's in disguise? Or a possessed student? If the Chamber was being opened in Voldemort's name, then Harry, being on the top of Voldemort's hit-list, was in danger. However, Dumbledore was there. The only wizard Voldemort feared. Harry would surely be safe under Dumbledore's watchful eye.

"I should be going." I said as I finished my tea. Diana let out sigh and rested her chin on my shoulder.

"So soon?" She whined. I had recently taken to apparating to Diana's after my mother had gone to bed and spending the evening unwinding with her and getting a nice friendly naked massage. Entirely normal. But I never stayed the whole night, I needed to be at home in case my mother needed me. Leaving almost as soon as Diana and I had um, you know, made our affair feel even cheaper than it already was. Diana was apparently oblivious to the text-book tackiness of our relationship and accepted the fact I had to leave with the same casual indifference she seemed to regard everything with. I had a feeling her indifference was a front. I had a feeling she was still mourning the loss of her husband, and used me to distract her from her own heartache. I was doing the same, so I couldn't judge. I dressed and said goodnight then apparated to my mother's living room. The house was dark and silent.

"Lumos." I whispered and I used the wand light to guide my way upstairs. I stopped outside my mother's room and peered through the door. The moon light illuminated the bed where she lay in an uneasy sleep. In the pale light her skin looked blue and it shined with perspiration. I heard her breathing slowly through her mouth. I was about to leave, when she called out to me.

"I don't approve of what you are doing." She said her voice tired and croaky but more amused than scolding. I walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed. I conjured a few candles and let them float in the air illuminating the room with more warmth than the moon.

"She knows what's going on. It was all her idea anyway." I said quietly.

"I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about you, you eejit."

"Me?" I questioned.

"Yes. You need a friend not a lover."

"Don't...say that word. It's weird."

"What? Lover?"

"Yes, don't say it."

"What? It's not like I haven't had any. It's not like I don't know what goes on."

"Urgh, ma, please."

"Alright alright..." My mother said before she took a long pain-filled sigh. "Could you get me some water?"

"Of course." I said and I conjured a glass with a straw and helped her sit up ever so slightly so that she could drink it.

"I mean it though," she warned, "I know you, and I know this sort of relationship is not what you want. You normally take this sort of thing so seriously."

"Yes, I'm not being myself, I know. I don't really know what I'm doing. I just..." I found I couldn't continue. I felt too tired and too sad. I just wanted to go to sleep. My mother apparently understood though because she gave my arm a reassuring rub.

"Stick it out love," she said, "things will get better."

"Ah, I'm not optimistic like you so-" I was cut short by my mother jerking upright and wincing. "What?"

"Oh." She said softly, "Remus sweetie could you get the bucket, I think I'm going to be sick."

"Accio bucket." I said pointing my wand at the bucket my mother had been using every time her medicine made her vomit. It was currently sitting by the door because I had cleaned it earlier today. I grabbed it and held it under my mother's chin with one hand and held her hair out of the way with my other hand. Once she had been sick she swilled some water around her mouth then wiped her face with a towel and leant back against her pillows. She still somehow managed to look dignified and beautiful apart from the tears creeping down her face.

"I hate this Remus." She said weakly. "I wish I could just die and be done with it. Why does I have to be dragged out like this?"

"Don't say that." I whispered.

"And I hate you having to look after me. You could be teaching at Hogwarts! Instead you are cleaning up your mother's sick."

"Think of it as recompense for the years you spent looking after me." I said, cleaning the bucket with a couple of spells.

"I don't expect a recompense, as you put it, for all of that. I did it gladly." My mother insisted.

"Well, now, I look after you gladly." I said. My mother and I exchanged sad smiles. "Do you feel alright now?"

"I feel better yes."

"Would you like me to get you some of the sleeping draught?"

"That would be good, thank you." I went downstairs and poured my mother a glass of the blue sleeping draught, and after giving it to her I went to bed myself, but I didn't sleep. My mother was right, this thing I had with Diana wasn't making me happy. It wasn't that I wanted a relationship with Diana. But, I wasn't very good at the sex-with-no-strings thing. Of course, it certainly was enjoyable, and a nice way to take my mind off things. But, it wasn't really me. I felt awkward and guilty about it the next day. And, well, I wanted more than just sex. Albeit not with Diana. I knew full well I couldn't actually have more: being someone's sexual service provider was probably the closest I was going to get to having a loving relationship with someone. But when is anyone ever truly happy with something _close to_ what they want? So, when the Christmas holidays approached I ended it. I left it til Christmas for two reasons: one, Diana was my boss and I was slightly concerned breaking it off her might make her angry and that would make for an unpleasant working environment, so I left it till Christmas because that way, there would be a cooling off period where we wouldn't see each other for a bit; and two, every time I tried to bring up the subject she starting doing things to me that made it very difficult to say anything other than 'geeeaaah'. When I did eventually broach the subject, her reaction was a lot better than I expected.

"That's okay Remus." She had said after a very long, slightly condescending, sigh.

"It is?" I questioned.

"Yes. I didn't expect this to carry on indefinitely, and I knew the whole time it wasn't your thing."

"Why did you let it continue if you knew that?" I asked.

"You didn't say no. It's not my responsibility to act according to your _unvoiced_ desires, and it's not my problem if you have difficulty expressing what you really feel."

Maybe she was a bit angry. Or maybe she was just telling the truth. Neither of us said anything for a while, we just sat at opposite ends of her kitchen table in silence with our hands clasped around our teacups.

"What do we do now?" I asked eventually, when the silence became too much to bear.

"We finish our tea. And carry on as normal." She said before raising the cup to her lips. I examined her face. She looked like she was trying hard not to show any emotion. But, I myself was an expert at concealing emotion, so I knew where to look for the tell-tale signs as to what emotion it was she was trying to conceal. I looked towards her eyes, she was blinking a lot and looking determinedly at her tea. I think she was sad. Not because of me though.

"As you wish." I said gently. "I have enjoyed the nights we've spent together." She looked up at me and I smiled.

"So have I." She said, smiling as well.

"All a lover does is warm your bed. And while that's nice, what we really want is someone to warm our cold hearts. Am I right?"

"I suspect so."

"Well, in that case, to keep us sane throughout this eternal winter, can I still come over for drinks from time to time?"

Diana's smile widened. "Yes. Of course."

I left Diana's that night feeling rather empty. I was pleased of course that she wasn't mad at me, and she was happy to be friends. But somehow that didn't help fill the hole in my chest. My romantic history is rather pathetic. I didn't loose my virginity until I was twenty two. I've only ever been in love once. Properly I mean. Plenty of times I've been infatuated, obsessed almost, with girls that would never dream of requiting my feelings. But that's not love. The girl I was in love with, many many years ago, left when I told her what I was. She was afraid of me. I'm not angry and I don't blame her. But I don't think I've ever really gotten over it. I've never let myself fall in love again since. And I've never told anyone. Instead I lie and make up excuses. With the exception of Diana, none of my past girlfriends (if you could call them that) ever knew what I was. I always felt guilty for lying, and that probably contributed to my inability to extend a relationship beyond a couple of months. Then again, they would have left anyway, if I had told them. I can't have serious relationships with anyone. I'm a werewolf. I just can't. No-one wants a relationship with a werewolf. No-one wants to be with someone that unstable, that poor, that dangerous. Not unless that unstable, poor and dangerous someone has some extraordinary redeeming features, which I don't. Aside from being a werewolf, I am very very ordinary. Boring even. I am not worth the risk.

The winter months all seemed to merge into each other after that. Spring is as difficult to describe because there are so few events that stand out in my memory. And, despite what she said, I didn't see Diana all that much. It was just too awkward, and I was too tired to make an effort to rise above the awkwardness. My mother got steadily worse, and the more ill she became, the more unlike herself she behaved. The tumour wasn't in her brain, but being in so much pain all the time made it hard for her to think straight and very hard for her not to act out. By Summer she hardly resembled herself. In the evenings, after I'd managed to get her into a potion-induced sleep, I sat alone in the kitchen downing glasses of Firewhiskey, and contemplated on how I managed to loose so much. I talked to myself quite a lot, sometimes imagining I was talking to James or Lily, sometimes I even imagined I was talking to Sirius. When they were all here, Sirius was usually the one who weaselled my problems out of me when I was too shy to talk about them but obviously wanted to. James' advice was usually more sensible and helpful than Sirius', but Sirius was much more willing to give his out. And, while his advice left something to be desired, and almost always involved either alcohol, shagging or hexing Slytherins, I always felt that Sirius really cared and wanted to cheer me up, while James, on the other hand, had less patience for other people's problems. I got on tremendously with both of them of course, but I think I was always very slightly closer to Sirius. Sirius was closer to James than me, but they were practically brothers, so I didn't mind that. I thought about Sirius and James a lot during the summer months. My old friends. So, on the last day of July, when I heard over the radio that I had adapted to pick up wizarding news, that Sirius Black had escaped prison, at first I thought I was just imaging how they might come back. When I realised the news report wasn't in my own head, I stood up, dropped my whiskey glass and walked toward the radio. I picked it up and held it like it were a leprechaun giving me false prophecies.

"Black, who was imprisoned for killing thirteen people shortly after the fall of he who must not be named, is the first wizard ever to escape Azkaban. Ministry officials have told the wizarding community not to panic, but have been warned that Black is extremely dangerous and advices parents not to let young children leave the house unaccompanied..."

I took several slow deep breaths. Then swore. It felt like the only thing to do. I couldn't co-ordinate my thoughts. I felt so many things at the same time that I couldn't pick out any one specific feeling. I felt overwhelmed. I heard my mother stirring upstairs.

"Not now, please not now." I whispered.

"Remus!" I heard her call in a low, crackly voice that wasn't her own. I ignored her for a moment. He was out of prison. What was he going to do? Who was he now? Where was he going to go?

"Remus where are you?" I left the kitchen and went upstairs. My mother was sitting up in her bed crying quite profusely. She held her arms out to me and I walked swiftly to the bed. I took hold of her upper arms and kept her steady.

"What is it? What's wrong? Shall I get your medicine?" I asked my voice more steady than I thought it would be.

"No no..." She sobbed as she put her arms around me, then she pulled me down so that she was lying on the bed and I was trapped half sitting half lying with her arms tightly around me. She kissed the back of my head several times whilst squeezing me. I felt slightly awkward being hugged by my mother at 32 years old. But she wasn't about to let me go.

"Ma, you're hurting me." I said. She ignored me.

"Oh God Remus..." She moaned. "I love you so much, do you know that?"

"Yes." I said quietly, trying to wriggle out of her grip, "I know."

"And I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to make you happy. I just don't know how." She cried heavily into my back.

"Hey, hey..." I said gently shifting so that I was sitting on my bed, then I put my arms around my mother while she cried. "Whatcha talking about?" I added in a whisper.

"You have done so much for me. More than most mothers would. Most would have given me up. Let the ministry look after me."

"I could never have given you up. It took your father and I years to get pregnant. I almost gave up. We wanted you so much."

"I am grateful, for all that you've done for me. And I'm sorry, it took me till now to start showing it. That time, when I was...in hospital...I was selfish. I shouldn't have let it get to me like that."

"You couldn't help it."

"Even so, you went out of your way to help me then. I've not forgotten."

"And you are going out of your way to help me now." She said, the flow of her tears ceasing and her eyes fluttering closed. I sighed, and watched her fall into an uneasy sleep. Then I heard rain splatter the window and I looked towards the bleak night beyond the glass. For a second, I thought I could see a black dog.


	12. Back To Hogwarts

Thanks for the reviews guys, I really appreciate them. I need to make a disclaimer for this chapter: it includes some direct lines from JK Rowling's Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. In the scene on the Hogwarts Express most of the speech was taken from the book. I'm not going to point out exactly which bits are not mine, because it will probably be quite obvious to those who know the book, and secondly because I can't be bothered.

Chapter 12

Gilderoy Lockhart met with a strange accident during his year-long stint as Hogwarts' DADA Professor. The _Daily Profit_ was pretty shady on the details, but apparently he cast a dodgy obliviating charm and gave himself permanent amnesia. I did feel kind of sorry for the man, severe amnesia can be a crippling disorder, but it's hard to feel sorry for someone you don't know, especially when their infirmity means you can take their old job. No words can do justice to how grateful I was towards Dumbledore for offering my the post a second time. Ariadne's only needed a transfiguration teacher for the year, and after my mother died if I didn't have a job to go to, I don't know how I would have coped.

My mother dying was the first time I had seen someone die in front of me. In the war I had fought in battles against Death Eaters, but I had never killed anyone, and although people had died by my side, I had never really seen them die, I had just seen their bodies afterwards. With my mother however, I saw it happen, I saw life leave her. My mother's death was not a shock: the week before it happened she was too weak to leave her bed for anything other than to use the bathroom, and even then I had to help her. When she started to sleep for almost the whole day I knew she wouldn't be around much longer. I thought I was prepared. But, in truth, you cannot prepare for the death of someone you love so much. No matter how many times you imagine the event and tell yourself it is part of life, that no-one lives forever; the fact of the matter is, that you don't want that person to die. Screw mortality, screw inevitability – I didn't want my mother to die!

She had a stroke I think. I wasn't in the room, I was in the kitchen making dinner and I heard a thud. I apparated to the bedroom and saw her lying motionless on the bed, one arm draped over the side. The source of the thud was the bedside lamp she had knocked onto the floor. I moved to the bed and spoke to her. She didn't move but her eyes looked towards me, I could see that one eye, was filled with blood. I sat on the bed and pulled her into my arms, while my heart started to hurt and my nose to sting. After a while she was able to move her face again, but only one side. She looked confused, but happy to see me. I considered calling for an ambulance, but part of me knew there wasn't much point. So instead I smiled back.

"Rrrm." She said. Tears dripped down my cheeks. I promised myself then that when I thought of my mother, and when I described her, I would not remember her like this. I would remember her as the energetic, witty, slightly mad and beautiful woman who raised me and tried her hardest to make me happy. I would not remember her as the fail woman with colourless skin, who couldn't speak or move properly. I felt a surge of anger that she had been reduced to this by sickness.

Then she squeezed my hand. Apparently, she could move her arm again, but only one. She pulled her hand, with mine encased in it, up to her face and held my hand against her cheek. I had never practiced legilimency, but I was quite certain I could see my mother's thought. I love you, she thought. Then she died. I saw everything that she was slip away, until only a body, a mass of flesh and bone, remained. It frightened me how little her body looked like her. I had never really believed in souls and life after death or anything like that, but I felt my beliefs come into question when I saw just how different my mother's lifeless body was from her living one. There were a drastic difference, and the absence of her soul seemed the only explanation. I leant over her and heard nothing by myself crying.

_There is no-one here but you now, Lupin. _The wolf taunted_. _

I have absolutely no memories of the week immediately after her death. I don't even really remember the funeral. I vaguely remember my family rubbing my shoulders and telling me how wonderful she was. I remember once acute stab of sorrow when I saw her coffin. But I don't remember the service itself, or how I got home afterwards.

After her funeral I spent quite a lot of time in the house sorting out her things, deciding what I should keep and what I should give away. Part of me wanted to keep everything exactly as it was, keep her clothes in the wardrobe, her perfume on the dresser, her magazines in the living room. But I knew that I shouldn't hang on to these things. They were only things after all.

After a two weeks I had adjusted to my new life. I had gotten used to the silence. I had gotten used to having only myself as company. After a three, I felt a bit more like myself. I felt restless again. I no longer wished to isolate myself. And when the month came to an end, it was September the first and I was boarding the Hogwarts Express. For the first time since she died, I felt happiness. It felt good to be away from the house. It felt good to be useful again.

I arrived at platform nine and three quarters before most of the students, there were only one or two families, so the train was virtually empty when I got on. The driver helped me load my luggage onto the train, then I found a cabin near the back, set my briefcase into the overhead rack and sat down on one of the plush seats. The train felt so familiar and friendly. It had hardly changed since the first time. As I sat looking at the children arriving with their trunks and owls and flustered parents I thought about September the first 1971, when it was me standing in bell-bottom jeans clutching my brand new wand and Hogwarts a History on the platform waiting to be taken to the greatest school of witchcraft and wizardry. I remembered a few of the other parents casting curious glances at my mother because she was just so excited, even more excited than me.

_"That was marvellous how we went through the barrier like that! Just flooop and then we are here!" My mother cried, clapping her hands and looking at everyone else on the platform as if they were all her best friends. "Oh this is so exciting! All these witches and wizards!" _

_ "Anna, pet, keep your voice down, people with think you're mad." My father said gently to his wife. I fidgeted and looked at the other students to see if I could spot any other first years. I saw one boy with black hair standing by the waiting room door, who seemed the appropriate age, but he didn't look excited, in fact he looked downright miserable. His parents were dressed in very expensive looking robes, his mother in dark plum and his father in muted teel. They were staring at my mother with sneers on their faces and disgust in their eyes. Immediately I hated them. _

_ "Alright Remus, shall we get your trunk on board." My dad said. I nodded and helped him lift my trunk onto the train. Then we both jumped back down onto the platform so I could say goodbye. My dad put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me seriously. _

_ "Do you remember everything we discussed with Dumbledore about what to do when the time comes?" He asked, I nodded. "Good. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey are there to help you, so do what they tell you okay?" Again I nodded. My father took a deep breath and looked sad and happy at the same time. He pulled me towards him and enveloped me in a tight hug. I was still shorter than him back then, so my head only came up to his chest. I felt slightly embarrassed being hugged by my dad in front of everyone, but I knew I would miss him terribly in Hogwarts, so I hugged back. Then it was my mum's turn. She gave me a kiss, which I immediately chastised her for, but she just laughed at me. _

_ "Be good." She said to me, ruffling my hair. "And, be yourself. You can't go wrong if you do that." I smiled and nodded, and said goodbye, and then I was on my own in a little cabin on the train. I had almost sat in a cabin where this pretty girl with red hair and a boy with lanky black hair sat, but they were already engrossed in a conversation, and I felt too shy to interrupt it and say hello. So I sat on my own. I felt a pang of homesickness already. It didn't last long though cos the dark haired boy from the platform had burst into the room a huge grin on his face. He hardly resembled the grumpy looking kid with his parents. _

_ "Budge up scrawny I wanna sit there." He said. I did as he asked and he sat next to me. _

_ "Name's Sirius Black." He said holding his hand out to shake._

_ "I'm Remus Lupin." I said taking his hand and shaking it. I grinned. I couldn't help it. Sirius' smile was so contagious. _

_ "Were your parents the ones standing near the waiting room?" I asked before I could stop myself. _

_ "Yeah." Sirius said a scowl on his face. "Gits. I'm so glad to get away from them." It probably wasn't very kind of me to feel pleased that he didn't get on with his parents, because having a poor relationship with ones parents is something to be grieved not celebrated, but they had looked like such miserable people I was glad Sirius wasn't like them. _

_ "It will be nice to have a bit more freedom." I said to be agreeable. _

_ "Definitely. You have no idea how controlling my parents are." Sirius told me. "They never even let me choose my own friends, for Merlin's sake. I was only allowed to be friends with pure-bloods." _

_ "Oh, I guess that means you can't be friends with me then. My mum's a muggle." I said, slightly regretfully because this boy seemed just so damn cool, with his Doc Martins and denim jacket. _

_ "Aha! But that's the thing!" He said, his face bright and alive with excitement and mischief. "I'm going to Hogwarts and my parents will be far away in London: I can be friends with whoever the hell I want!" I grinned, while the boy reached into the pocket of his jeans for something. _

_ "Now, the important thing is – the one that will decide whether or not we'll be friends – is not whether your pure-blood or not," he said his eyebrows raised cheekily, "no: the important question is, do you like chocolate frogs?" Sirius held out a chocolate frog that had previously been in his pocket. _

_ "Are you kidding!" I said, my grin as big as his, "I bloody love them." Then Sirius laughed that irresistible infectious laugh of his and gave me the chocolate frog._

_ "This is going to be great." He said putting his hands behind his head and leaning back against the chair. _

It was difficult for me to reconcile that memory with the murderer and Death Eater currently on the run. I had been following the news reports on Black with almost fanatical fervor. I scrutinised the stories about him in Daily Prophit every day, ignoring almost everything else. The ministry still had no idea where he was, a few people had claimed they had seen him, but he always disappeared long before the aurors could get there. I suspect that transforming helped him evade capture. I thought about going to the ministry and telling them what I knew. But I always decided against it. The ministry would never believe the word of a werewolf, in fact they'd probably think I was deliberately giving them false information to help Black evade capture, then they'd arrest me and throw me in Azkaban in his place. From speaking to Diana I had heard that much of the wizarding world thought that Black was going to try and kill Harry. Apparently Black had been heard muttering the words 'He's at Hogwarts...He's at Hogwarts', and most had assumed he was talking about Harry. But to me that didn't make sense! Of course Harry was at Hogwarts, Black wasn't stupid, he knew how old Harry was, he would have known that Harry had been at Hogwarts for two years already. But then, perhaps in Azkaban Black had lost track of time, it was perfectly possible, a lot of people loose more than time in there.

And besides, if Black was as extreme a follower of Voldemort as was rumoured, it made sense for him to want to kill the boy that killed his master. But still, something didn't make sense. Why now? If Black wanted to kill Harry and could have escaped Azkaban all this time, why didn't he try sooner? I suddenly remembered sitting with James and Lily in James's garden drinking lemonade while Sirius pretended to eat baby Harry's feet. Again, I couldn't reconcile this memory with the knowledge that Black now wanted to kill that baby. It felt so wrong. Was he pretending all that time? I felt a surge of anger that Black had managed to trick me for so long.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by a waterfall in the distance that I had an overwhelming urge to run to. After admiring the waterfall for a short while I realised I was dreaming. And of course, as soon as I realised I was dreaming I woke up. Then I realised that my thoughts were probably not interrupted _suddenly_, it only felt that way, because I had no doubt drifted into such a deep sleep I lost all awareness of time passing. Last night had been a full moon, and I quite often fell asleep during the day after. I slept very deeply too, almost nothing could wake me up. I knew at once what had woken me up this time, however: the train had stopped. But, I could see through the window that we hadn't yet arrived at our destination, I didn't think we were at a destination of any kind.

"We can't be there yet," said a young female voice. I silently agreed with her.

"So why're we stopping?" Said a young male voice. I silently agreed with him also. The wind suddenly picked up and the rain pummelled the window with more vigor. I sat perfectly still and tried to think why we would have stopped. I had heard that the castle would have extra security around it, owing to the escape of Sirius Black, though I didn't know exactly what 'extra security' meant. Was this something to do with that? Did the extra security involve searching the train before it arrived at Hogwarts? Suddenly the lights in the train went out. Because of the storm raging outside the cabin was very nearly pitch black.

"What's going on?" Said the male voice form earlier.

"Ouch!" cried the girl. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?" Said another voice, which I immediately recognised although I hadn't heard it before. He sounded just like James.

"Dunno..." Said Ron. I could just make out in the darkness Ron wipe the condensation off the window and look out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..." I looked out of the window as well and saw hooded fingers move towards the train doors. Then the cabin door opened and another passenger entered.

"Ow!" Harry cried.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch!" The newcomer had fallen down, Harry helped him up and said to him,

"Hullo, Neville."

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down -"

Then Neville tried to sit on what must have been a cat, judging by the hissing. Harry's female friend then decided to ask the driver what he thought was going on. I was about to get up and do the same when I heard two female squeaks. Then the cabin was full of confused chatter and people falling over each other. It was time I intervened.

"Quiet!" I said. My voice was croakier than usual, but it had the desired effect: the cabin fell silent. With a quick voiceless wandless charm, a ball of blue flames appeared in my right hand. I could now see five young faces looking with surprise at me. I felt a slight jolt when I saw Harry's: he looked just like him too.

"Stay where you are," It told them all and I made towards the cabin door. But then it slid open. And my whole body suddenly felt ice cold and my heart constricted in my chest. I saw the towering hooded figure in the doorway. As I looked at it, in my head my mother was telling my father had been killed; I was a small child being crushed by the weight of a werewolf, with his teeth sinking into my flesh; I was bent over a wooden table, crippled with grief having just been told the Potters had been murdered; I was in the throws of a transformation, my body aflame with agony, and I could see a boy, Severus Snape, looking horrified in my direction; my mother was dying once again in my arms. So this was what the 'extra security' was. The hateful thing sucked the air and all our happy thoughts from the room. I felt a rush of fury. How dare it feed of these children's minds. All the children's faces were white, and the little red haired girl had begun to cry. Harry looked worst though. The poor boys eyes were blank with sorrow. He gasped slightly, as if he was surprised that he could feel so awful, then his eyes rolled into his head and he crumpled to the floor. I stepped over him, anger roaring within me.

"None of us are hiding Sirius Black beneath our Cloaks. Go." I told the Dementor, and thinking of the sandcastle I made with my dad when I was nine, I wordlessly conjured a Patronus. It wasn't fully formed but it was enough for the Dementor to retreat. I turned back to Harry and turned his face so I could see it. Then the lights came back on. I heard the train doors shut. Then after a moment, the train once again began to move. The children's faces were pale with shock. I rummaged around in my pockets for some chocolate. I almost always had some with me when I travelled. Harry woke up and his two friends who were kneeling beside him asked him if he was alright.

"Who screamed?" Harry asked, and my heart ached for the boy, what horrific memories might the Dementor have awakened in him? At last I found the chocolate. I unwrapped it and began to snap it into pieced. The first snap made all the children jump, so I smiled reassuringly at them. I held out the biggest piece to Harry.

"Here, eat it. It'll help."

"What was that thing?" Harry asked me, taking the chocolate.

"A Dementor," I replied, handing out chocolate to everyone else, "one of the Dememtors of Azkaban." The children all took the chocolate but none of them started eating it, so I repeated my advice to eat it, then headed out of the cabin to talk to the driver. I still felt impossibly angry. Dementors were disgusting creatures, and although they would surely deter Sirius Black from entering Hogwarts, they should never have been allowed to enter the train. The children should not have been exposed to them. The driver didn't know they would be coming aboard, had he known he said, he wouldn't have stopped, but he thought they might had been wizards and of course didn't want to run them down with his train. Once they had boarded the train the driver had questioned them and learnt that the had been ordered to search the train.

"I didn't know whether to believe them though, 'cos they weren't accompanied by a wizard, which I thought was a bit dodgy, so I conjured a Patronus and told them to get off." The driver told me.

"Good thinking. Those things shouldn't be allowed around the students." I said.

"Totally agree. They are bloody horrible." Said the driver, "still, if it keeps out Black..."

"Mm." I said. "How much longer till we are there?"

"Oh not long, about ten minutes." The driver said. I expressed my thanks and headed back to the cabin. I spent the remainder of the journey lost in my thoughts. I didn't give my full attention to my surroundings until I was stepping into the castle. I was momentarily breathless by it's grandeur and familiarity. I smiled. It felt so good to be home.

NB I would also like to say, that I know I'm rushing through things in this fic. If it were a story of my own I would spend more time on Remus's mother's death, his relationship with Diana etc. In fact, if it were a story of my own there would not be nearly so many events to get through - my own plots tend to be a bit dull in that respect. But anyway, the reason I'm rushing through things is because I don't want this fic to be too long, but I want to do all seven books. I hope I've given you enough to get a feel of how Remus feels about everything, and to inspire some day dreams about our beloved Remus.


	13. A Duel, A Boggart And A Grindylow

Disclaimer = again there are some lines lifted directly from the prisoner of azkaban in this chapter. I hope you don't mind me re-writing these scenes, but it's fun for me to see them again from a different point of view.

Chapter 13

I settled into Hogwarts quickly. In fact, for a lot of the time it felt as if I had never left. That step on the way up to the Gryffindor common room still swallowed your foot if you stepped on it, Filch was still suspicious of anyone who had they hands in their pockets, the food was still fantastic, there was still graffiti on the desks in the library, and Peeves still tried to trick first years into taking the wrong staircase on their way to History of Magic so they ended up in Astronomy. In other ways though, it felt very different. The professors called me Remus, and not Mr Lupin – well except for Snape. I slept in a bedsit next to my office and not in the Gryffindor tower. And in all the places where James, Sirius, Peter and I used to loiter, new gangs of miscreants had taken up residence. I felt a pleasant jolt when I saw Harry, Ron and a young witch called Hermione, leaning against the wall of the cloister where James and Sirius and I used to meet after class.

I still hadn't taught the third years yet, but that would change tomorrow afternoon. It was difficult to know what to teach the younger years. For the older students I had O.W.L and N.E.W.T syllabuses to guide me, but for the younger years I had a lot more freedom to choose what to teach them, but as their previous teachers really hadn't taught them very much, I had a bit too much freedom. In the end, I decided on a little bit of everything for the first years, dark creatures for the second and third years (being a dark creature myself, I was rather an expert in that area), and curses and counter-curses for the fourth years.

I enjoyed all my lessons, but I think the younger children were easier to teach. My lesson with the sixth years this morning was particularly taxing. I was trying to gage the scope of their knowledge of defensive spells, but it was like trying to tickle a dragons tonsils whilst dressed in robes made of raw steak. They were all slumped in their seats with expressions of disdain and hostility. I felt like if I poked one of them they would open their mouths, roar at me, then try to bite off my head. Honestly, they were that scary looking. But well, they couldn't be scarier than a werewolf could they? So, after the my fifth failed attempt to get anything other than a grunt from them, I challenged the most sullen looking sixteen year old to a duel. I know it wasn't standard technique, but I had to do something to get them out of their stupor, and it wasn't like I was going to do anything dangerous. The boy, who was almost as tall as me with very broad shoulders and muscular arms, was the beater on the Slytherin quidditch team I think. His name was Derrick. He looked very surprised at my challenge, and looked to his Slytherin friends for advice. Most just shrugged, but one girl said, in a high-pitched childish-sounding voice,

"You can't duel with a student."

"If he knows the defensive spells, he will be fine." I said with a smile that I hoped wasn't too mischievous. Derrick then spoke up.

"S'alright, what can he do anyway? Look at him." He said to the girl, not bothering to lower his voice so that I didn't hear his insult.

"Alright Lupin, show us what you've got." Derrick said pulling his wand form his pocket and holding it at his side.

"_Professor_ Lupin, Derrick." I corrected. Derrick snorted. I ignored him. "Duelling is a complicated business." I said. The class listened to me silently, perhaps only because they were so enthralled by the prospect that I was about to duel with one of them.

"Different kinds of curses and hexes need different kinds of defence. The shield charm, which I hope you all know, works on a large number of them. But some curses can get through a shield charm, hence it is useful to also know deflection spells. And again, different curses require different kinds of deflection. The incantation for a deflection spell is always the same, but the wand movement differs depending on what sort of curse you want to deflect. For example a flick curse requires a broadsided deflection." (blank faces, not a good sign) "It is actually the wand movement that determines whether or not your deflection will be successful, so precision is important."

The students were all looking at me as if I were insane. But I didn't mind: they were listening that was the important thing. Worryingly though, my words didn't seem familiar to them, and by their sixth year they should have been.

"Do you know the different kinds of deflection spells?" I asked. The students looked at one another, as if they needed to decide as a group whether to lie or tell the truth. None of them said anything. Silence was apparently their default response.

"Let's find out shall we..." I said raising my wand towards Derrick. Derrick squared his shoulder's and grinned slightly. I had a strong suspicion he didn't know how to cast an effective deflection spell, but was of the opinion, like most of the class, that I had no idea how to duel and would be easily beaten.

"Is this going to be like a proper duel?" He asked, "like, you say go and then we both fire whatever we want at each other."

This boy seemed disturbingly eager to curse me.

"Are you sure that is wise? I am a much more experienced dueller than you are." I said. The boy laughed at me in disbelief.

"I'll take my chances." He said. I nodded.

"Alright. If you say so." I said with mock reluctance. I gave a brief bow and then, "en garde!"

The boy shot a spell at me that I didn't recognise, possibly it was one that he and his friends had made up, but from his wand movement I knew to be a diagonal cut curse, i.e. one that slashes across you, rather than heads straight at you, so I executed the appropriate deflection, then hit him with a transfiguring hex, one that he should have been able to deflect. Sadly Derrick didn't know how and his nose turned into a tomato, much to the amusement of his class mates.

"What? What are you laughing at?" He called to them, the tomato on his face wobbling ridiculously. I called off the hex while Derrick felt his face. He sighed with relief upon finding it just as it was.

"So, that settles it. We will be learning deflection spells for the next few weeks." I said, trying not to look too amused. Derrick grumpily sat back in his seat and massaged his wounded ego by calling me some rather unpleasant names. The other students, however, looked quite entertained, and some, even looked impressed – _even_ the Slytherins.

"Really you should know them by now, but no matter. Deflection spells are quite fun." I walked back to my desk and picked up the textbook I was using.

I checked the contents, then told the class, "turn to page 226 and you'll find diagrams of the wand movements. There are three lines of attack a curse can take, and consequently there are three kinds of deflection. The first line of attack is a diagonal cut, which requires a diagonal sweep of your wand. The second is a straight-line attack, i.e. a curse that comes straight at you. For these, the deflection requires a downwards flick of your wand. And finally flick curses, are curses that follow a line that is neither diagonal nor straight. You can recognise these curses quite easily because your opponent will usually spin his wand before firing the curse. To deflect these one has to turn your wand so the broad side is facing your opponent and bring it sharply downwards."

As I explained each movement I demonstrated them, and the students, even the Slytherins paid close attention.

"Right, everyone stand up and get your wands out. We'll practice the diagonal deflection together." I said brightly. There was the sound of the scrapping back of chairs as everyone stood up. "Then, once you've mastered it, we'll see if any of you can beat me in a duel. A bottle of butterbeer to whoever can." The class chuckled at the prospect.

On wednesday evening of the first week, I was sitting in the staff room listening to Sibyll Trelawney tell me that I would win a hundred galleons if I played poker in the Hog's Head next friday, and thinking about how much I had enjoyed my frist few days teaching. I thought I should write to my mother and tell her how things were going – then I was hit with a wave of melancholy as I remembered.

"You know what else, Remus? You know what else?" Trelawney told me, putting her hand on my knee to get my attention.

"I wouldn't listen Remus, she's been telling young Potter he's going to die all week, and he's not dropped dead yet." McGonagall said from behind the book she was reading.

"You have predicted Harry's death?" I asked Trelawney who was blushing and looking flustered.

"Saw the grim in his tea leaves." McGonagall said with a sigh.

"I did!" Trelawney insisted angrily. I regarded her with an eyebrow raised and, apparently to rid me of my disbelief she declared that she saw the grim in my future also.

"Are you sure you are not just seeing me at the next full moon?" I suggested. Trelawney flinched slightly. She spent the next few minutes blushing and mumbling incomprehensible sentences. Fortunately for the both of us, her rambling was ceased by the arrival of Severus Snape. _Unfortunately_ however, Trelawney took this opportunity to leave the unpleasant company of a werewolf, and _I_ was left alone with the unpleasant company of Severus Snape. I wasn't sure how I felt about Snape. He obviously hated me, which as disagreeable as it is to be hated, I was quite used to, but I did regret it. I wished that what occurred whilst we were at school could be forgotten, not so that Snape and I could be friends, but just so that he wouldn't snarl at me the way he did. The worst thing though, was not seeing how much he hated me, the worst thing was being reminded every time I saw him, of that night he had followed me into the wamping willow. When I looked at him now, I saw the younger version of him, staring at my half-transformed body, while I begged him to get away. Every time I thought of that night my heart raced and I was flooded with the same fear and guilt I had felt back then. And to make it even worse, he knew how this memory tortured me. And he revelled in it. He revelled in the fact that he had seen my at my weakest, my most afraid.

"I have heard a rumour that you hexed a student in my house." Snape said coldly. I said nothing for a while while I thought and fingered my moustache. Yes. I had a moustache. It was quite a new thing so I was still getting used to it. I hadn't grown it intentionally, but after my mother died I sort of gave up shaving. When it came to September I thought it was time to get rid of the beard, lest I scare the children. But once I had shaved off most of it and had only my upper lip to do, I decided I quite liked it and left it.

"We were having a lesson on deflective spells: it was part of an exercise." I said calmly. Snape glared at me and his bottom lip quivered slightly as if he wasn't sure whether to yell insults at me or just spit at me.

"I'm warning you Lupin," he said spraying me with flecks of saliva (he decided on the spitting apparently), "Dumbledore might think he's made a good choice with you, but I know better, I know what a conniving spineless animal you are." I smiled, which was probably not the appropriate reaction because Snape's lip curled and he made a strange noise that was someway between a cough and a growl. But I couldn't help it: Dumbledore thought I was a good choice! I quickly wiped my smile away however, as I didn't want to aggravate Snape any further.

"I am sorry you feel that way." I said quietly. Snape looked like he was about to hit me, but instead he turned away with a swish of his robes and stormed off.

I taught Harry's class on Thursday afternoon. I decided to start them with a Boggart. I thought it was quite a good choice, as Boggarts weren't horrendously dangerous – especially not to thirteen year olds. Boggarts are more dangerous to adults as adult fears are usually more complex and more frightening to the victim. Plus, tackling Boggarts can be quite fun. However, because I am actually a complete and utter idiot, I forgot that Harry was no ordinary thirteen year old boy, and his fears were probably worse than spiders or frogs or ghosts. I had to rush in and step in front of him before the Boggart transformed. I hope he understood why. He was a bright boy, he would probably work it out.

But, apparently he didn't. On Hallowe'en I saw him walk past my office with his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders drooping. He looked so much like his dad as he walked past it felt like I was looking at his ghost.

"Harry?" I called to him. He looked somewhat morose, and it was unusual for him not to be with his two friends. "What are you doing? Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Hogsmeade." Harry answered obviously trying his hardest not to look disgruntled by the fact. Harry's smile didn't reach his green eyes and his glasses slipped down his nose a little. Harry used his index finger to push them back up than ran a hand through his hopelessly untameable hair.

"Why don't you come in? I've just taken a delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson." I said cheerfully to him. Harry's curiosity replaced his discontentment and he came in an had a look at the creature. It was only a small Grindylow, but it bared it's sharp teeth and waggled it's boney fingers menacingly enough. There were Grindylows in the lake of course, but those were a of a particularly vicious variety that I didn't trust to stay in a tank, so I had a less dangerous breed delivered for my lesson. Harry and I spoke about the Grindylow for a minute or two, then I offered him some tea. I casually mentioned the grim Trelawney had seen and asked him if he was worried about it. He insisted that he wasn't but I wasn't so sure. He continued to frown, his thick eyebrows tied together and his scar becoming slightly more prominent, as he looked down at the mug of tea in front of him.

"Anything worrying you, Harry?" I asked gently. Harry answered no, but after a few minutes he burst out with why I wouldn't let him fight the Boggart, obviously under the impression that I had stopped him because I didn't think him capable. So I had to explain that I had presumed his worst fear would be Voldemort, and I didn't want the other children in a panic because the most feared dark wizard of all time had materialised in the classroom. I felt quite guilty that I had let Harry believe I thought he was too weak to fight off a measly Boggart. Firstly, because it wasn't true and secondly because it clearly bothered him quite a bit. He had his father's pride obviously. Then our conversation was cut short by Snape with my wolfsbane. Although Snape scowled at me and occasionally called me 'werewolf' instead of using my name, he made the wolfsbane for me every month and made sure I didn't forget to take it. Of course, Dumbledore had instructed him to make it for me, but Snape still didn't have to, he still made it out of choice. And he made it perfectly.

On the first full moon I went to the Shrieking Shack to transform. It wasn't that I didn't trust Snape...well, actually no, that was it: I didn't trust Snape. So, just in case, I had snuck out of the castle and, after making sure no-one was watching, I slipped into the Wamping Willow and made my way to the Shrieking Shack. I felt sick as soon as I saw the place. Every tattered piece of furniture, every scratch on the wall, every blood stain on the floor, reminded me of the foul memories I had formed there. The horrible lonely transformations. And Snape. He had got so close. I could remember vividly the wolf howling inside me when I saw him standing at the entrance to the Shack, telling me to rip him, to open that flesh. I remembered feeling the wolf's yearning to see his blood, to taste it. While I screamed at him, "please Severus! Please get out! Don't let me hurt you!" as I tried to fight the transformation, which only made it hurt more.

I pushed the memories of past transformations aside and tried to focus on this one. I undressed, folding my clothes neatly and leaving them on a small wooden chair in the corner of the largest room in the Shack. It was probably the main living area at one point, but now it looked more like one of the cells in Azkaban, only a bit bigger. I stood in the centre of the room, and wrapped my arms around my naked form. I felt the restlessness and itching that marked the oncoming transformation, but it was decidedly less prominent than usual, that was a good sign that the wolfsbane was working. Minutes passed, then although the windows were borded up and I couldn't see out, I knew the sun had set and the moon had risen. My whole body shuddered and I gasped for breath. I shook uncontrollably, then yelled as my muscled spasmed and stretched. I dropped to my knees, then put my arms down so that I was on all fours. It was easier that way. I moaned and whimpered as I felt my vertebrae move, and stretch and grow forcing my nerves to stretch painfully with them. Then, simultaneously my ribs cracked as they changed, and claws forced themselves from the bed of my nails. I gave a cry of pain, but soon after cries became howls. The transformation was painful, but it was nothing compared to the absolute agony of an untreated transformation, so I was quite sure the wolfsbane was working. Once I had transformed I was completely certain.

I stood still for the few moments in my wolf's body while I recovered from the transformation. I felt the terrifying hunger for human blood. I longed to tear apart those disgusting human monsters with my teeth. But unlike normal full moons, I knew I didn't want to give in to those desires, I still had my mind, so I could stop myself. I didn't have to try and break my way out of the Shack to get to the people outside. I didn't have to scratch at my own body when I failed. I could control myself. So I knew the wolfsbane had worked.

Wolfsbane was a tremendous breakthrough. It eased the pain of transformation and enabled me to retain control over the wolf. But, the downside was that I felt all of the wolf's sick desires as if they were my own. It disgusted me and frightened me. So much so, that I almost didn't want to take the wolfsbane.

The bloodlust of the wolf did subside as the night went on, once the wolf accepted that he wasn't going to be satisfied, so I was able to wander around the house in my wolf form without being troubled by it. It was during my exploration of the Shack that I noticed things I hadn't noticed as a human. I was closer to the ground as a wolf so I could see that the dust had been disturbed in places, as if someone had been here recently. And my sense of smell was much more sensitive, so I could smell that someone else had been here. I followed the smell up the stairs and into a bedroom. The dust had been disturbed here as well. I pawed my way to the bed sniffing at the ground. Then I smelled the tattered curtains. I growled. Something else had been here. I jumped onto the bed and sniffed at the aged, rotten mattress. Something had lain here. I sniffed again. An animal. And again. A dog! I growled again, louder this time. How could he be here? How dare he? I raised my head and let out an angry howl.

The next day, once I had returned to my human form and gone back to Hogwarts, although I was weak and exhausted from the night before, I struggled to sleep. I spent much of the day I usually spent recovering worrying about whether what I thought was true. Was Sirius Black really here? And in the Shrieking Shack? Eventually I convinced myself that just because I smelt dog didn't mean it was Sirius, it could have been any dog. How it got inside, although mysterious, was beside the point. I pushed Sirius Black from my mind. But on the same day that I showed Harry the Grindylow, on Hallowe'en, Sirius Black forced himself back in again.

AN I made up all that stuff about deflection spells. Also, I know I jump backwards and forwards quite a lot, but I sort of view this story as a stream of consciousness from Lupin's head, and people's thoughts tend to jump backwards and forwards quite a lot. I hope it is not too difficult to follow.


	14. Old Grudges

Disclaimer = The conversation between Harry and Lupin was lifted from book 3, I didn't write them, JK did.

Chapter 14

I sat at the desk in my office massaging my eyebrow and staring vacantly at nothing in particular with my mouth slightly open. My doubts about his intentions had been checked: slashing that portrait of the Fat Lady made it pretty clear that he was after Harry. During the search of the castle, I had searched all the secret passageways we used to use while we were at school, but I found no sign of someone using them. I felt my face begin to scowl. Why was he back in my life? Hadn't he ruined it enough? In rage I swiped the books and papers off of my desk, stood up and yelled. I paced my office and ran my hands roughly through my hair. Since he broke out, I had done my best to burry my feelings about it. They were too complicated and overwhelming, and I didn't have the strength to deal with them. But now they were tumbling uncontrollably out of me. Most of all I felt so unfathomably angry. So angry that just shouting was all I could do. I wasn't even shouting words. I was just shouting. Once I had gotten most of it out of my system the anger subsided slightly, and an ugly murderous desire took its place. I heard a knock at my office door.

"Come in." I said, my voice especially horse from all the shouting. Dumbledore pushed open the door and stepped inside. My eyebrows raised in surprise and I hoped that he hadn't heard me yelling.

"Good evening Remus." Dumbledore said, surveying the books I had pushed onto the floor with casual interest.

"Headmaster." I said. "No sign of Black I presume?" It stung to say his name out loud.

"No." Dumbledore said, his face thoughtful. He looked directly at my eyes and I instinctively looked away. "And I am at a loss as to how he managed to enter. Still, he was always very ingenious." I thought for a moment about telling Dumbledore that Sirius was an animagus but then I remembered a conversation I had had with Dumbledore years and years ago.

_I sat in his grand circular office my feet not touching the floor. My hands were clasped tightly together in my lap. I had met Dumbledore plenty of times before, but this was the first time I had spoken to him at Hogwarts, this was the first time I had been in his office. _

_ Dumbledore entered and smiled warmly at me, like he had just spotted his favourite nephew. I immediately felt more comfortable. Dumbledore walked round to the other side of the desk and sat down. Then he pulled a packet of sweets from his pocket. _

_ "Would you like a pear drop Remus?" He asked me kindly. I smiled and accepted one. "How are you settling in?" _

_ "Fine." I replied, my leg jiggling unconsciously. "Everyone is really nice." _

_ "Good good. And what about your lessons?" _

_ "They are good too." I said. _

_ "I have heard good things from all your teachers." Dumbledore told me and I blushed. "Now, do you mind if we talk about the full moon?" My leg stopped jiggling as the conversation turned serious. I couldn't speak so I just nodded. _

_ "Well, as you know, Madame Pomfrey will take you down to the Whomping Willow just before moonrise, and walk with you down to the old house at the other end. There she will leave you to transform. And in the morning she will come and collect you."_

_ "Yes." I said to convey my understanding. _

_ "Now Remus, I would advice you not to tell anyone about your condition. I'm sure you understand how poorly the Wizarding community in general regard people like you." Dumbledore said with a frown. I just nodded. "But quite apart from that, it is important that no-one follow you. We have taken steps to ensure your safety and the safety of the other students, so I trust you not to thwart those steps by telling anyone." _

"It is a full moon tomorrow, am I correct?" Dumbledore asked casually, pulling my from my memories. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't admit how I had disobeyed him. The thought of doing it made my insides twist with unbearable guilt.

"Um, yes it is." I replied.

"How do you find them now?"

"With the wolfsbane, they are miles better."

"Good. How are you feeling otherwise?" I licked my lips, wondering what Dumbledore was getting at.

"Shaken by tonight's events." I said truthfully. Dumbledore gave a sympathetic sigh. After all, it was he who broke the news of the Potters' death to me. Dumbledore nodded and said nothing more on the subject. He left me alone. I went to my quarters and sat down on the winged armchair by the fire. I checked my pocket watch. I turned the silver object over in my hands. The chain had been lost years ago, so I just kept it in my trouser pocket now. It had been my father's watch and it not only gave the time, it could also answer truthfully any question I asked it, provided it was a yes or no answer.

"Is Sirius Black going to kill Harry Potter?" I asked the watch. The face of it went white and after a few seconds a word formed in the centre of it.

"No." The word said. I pondered what this meant for a while. Then I sighed and caught sight of the Christmas card the Tonkses had given me. I don't know why I brought it with me, but I did. I picked it up and looked at the photo. Andromeda and Ted were looking lovingly into each others eyes and Nymphadora was smiling at me as if she knew what was going on and was telling me not to worry. I smiled back and put the card back on the bureau. It struck me as slightly odd that I had never really seen Nymphadora. Well, of course I saw her when I met her, but she was a middle-aged woman at the time. I have never seen her in her natural form. I reasoned that because she looked quite similar in the photo Andromeda had shown me and in the Christmas card, that was probably close to what she looked like without morphing. But then again, I couldn't be sure, that might just be her preferred morph. Perhaps she didn't even have a natural form. Perhaps each morph felt as natural to her as any other. Though, I was sure I had read somewhere that that wasn't the case: that metamorphmaguses have a natural form. I wondered what Nymphadora's would look like. I found it quite a relaxing past time, but eventually I became aware of the sun rising, and had to stop. I sighed. No sleep on the night before a full moon? This moon would be a rough one.

And indeed it was. The murderous intentions I had as a man transferred to the wolf and even with the wolfsbane it was difficult for me to control. It took all my energy and will power to stop myself leaving the Shack (yes I was using the Shack again, just to be careful). I didn't have enough energy to prevent the wolf hurting itself, so I awoke from the full moon with my own blood all over myself. I made it to my quarters under a dissolusionment charm and then sent a message to Madame Pomfrey. She came quickly and sorted me out, but I was too weak to return to teaching until the following Monday.

While I was ill a lot had gone down at Hogwarts (that's a good phrase, 'gone down at Hogwarts', I should use that again out loud some time). Snape had been taking my classes and setting my students excessive amounts of work that he never intended to mark, which meant that _I_ had to do it. Hufflepuff had played Gryffindor in a quidditch match and won. At first, I was surprised to hear this as Hufflepuff were not known for their prowess on the quidditch field, especially when compared to Gryffindor. But there was an explanation for this surprising outcome: the Dementors had attended the match.

All this was explained to me at the staff meeting on Monday morning by Dumbledore who was furious that the Dementors had entered the grounds. He had complained to the ministry that the Dementors were out of their control, and pointed out that if they hadn't been able to stop Black escape Azkaban they wouldn't be able to stop him entering Hogwarts anyway. But the ministry insisted that the Dementors stay, which only angered Dumbledore further. I myself was deeply disturbed by the ministry's blinkered grasp of the situation. They had focused all that they were afraid of onto one man, thereby making him seem more dangerous than he actually was, and were now bending the rules, and even endangering the minds of children, to catch him. It was human nature to try and encapsulate all ones fears in the body of one person, it makes the fear easier to deal with; but it was foolish for the ministry to then believe that catching Black would be the end of all dark magic.

Anyway, Harry had fallen of his broom as a result of the demonic invasion, and very nearly died, and whilst he was incapacitated Hufflepuff's seeker had caught the snitch. To pile insult onto grievous injury, Harry's unmanned broomstick had flown into the Whomping Willow, and we all know what a kind and gentle tree that is.

"I'm sorry about your broomstick." I told him after our lesson on Thursday. "Is there any chance of fixing it?" I added hopefully. Harry shook his head with a hopeless smile and I sighed, it was a heck of a good broom he had lost. I rambled about the Whomping Willow for a bit, then Harry brought up the Dementors.

"Why? Why do they affect me like that?" He asked me, concern etched on his face, "am I just-?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," I cut in before he could finish his sentence. I realised that it wasn't pride that caused him to worry about being weak, he genuinely doubted his ability. I frowned, probably looking about a hundred years old, my mother used to tell me that I looked older when I frowned. Harry's self-doubt was very endearing, but completely unfounded. If he had asked me I would have said he was top of the class – well, maybe just behind Hermione. I told him what vile creatures Dementors were in the hope that would convince him he wasn't weak.

"...And the worst that has happened to _you_, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their boom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me -" Harry began uncertainly. He looked past me at the desk apparently embarrassed by whatever he was about to say. I felt quite touched that he thought he felt he could open up to me.

"...I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum." Harry said it so stonily, so unemotionally, in such a matter-of-fact way that I knew this bothered him something fierce. My heart ached. I saw the loneliness and the grief that he was trying so desperately to hide. I wanted so badly to confort him. But I felt embarrassed to even put my hand on his shoulder. I'd never been very good at that sort of thing. Besides, he wouldn't want some crazy old man's condolences. He didn't need me to pat him on the back and tell him it would all be fine. What he did need me for, is to learn how to fight. So I agreed to teach him the Patronus charm, even though I was worried it would be too advanced for him.

However, I wouldn't be able to teach him until after Christmas, as I had an awful lot to sort out before the holidays. I had double the number of lessons to plan as I had been unable to do anything while I was ill. What's more, that morning I had received a letter from the muggle lawyer who was taking care of my mother's will. The letter had taken a while to get to me as a muggle couldn't really post a letter to Hogwarts, so he had sent it to Diana who had forwarded it to me. The letter explained that all the paperwork had been completed and the house now officially belonged to me. However along with the house, I inherited it's mortgage and all sorts of muggle taxes that I didn't understand. My mother used her and my father's pensions to make the mortgage payments, and while I would get the remainder of their pensions most of that would go on something called inheritance tax and paying the lawyer. I really didn't want to be paying these muggle taxes seeing that I wasn't one, so what I really wanted to do was make it a magical rather than a muggle residence. This was a lot more complicated that it sounded as it involved asking the ministry to buy my house then sell it back to me, which was a surprisingly lengthy process. What's more, I wouldn't be able to buy the house from the ministry outright, I'd have to take out another mortgage, probably from Gringotts, and my being a werewolf would indubitably make it more difficult to get one.

So, to sum up, I had a lot of very boring problems to deal with. Sadly, the last day of term came around too quickly and I still hadn't got anything sorted. The ministry wouldn't buy my house, because they said they didn't trust me to be able to buy it back, and my muggle lawyer said that if I didn't pay the inheritance tax soon the muggle authorities would fine me. It was doing my head in. To make matters worse Snape wasn't going to provide me with any wolfsbane for the full moon that would occur during the holidays.

"I've run out." He had said when I inquired about some wolfsbane for the holidays.

"What? You said you made a cauldron full?" I put to him, irritated by his deliberate unhelpfulness.

"That was two months ago. You had used it all since then, and I didn't think you'd be needing anymore until next term." Snape said as he walked towards the door of the staff room. I walked after him my desperation starting to show.

"You didn't think I'd be needing any? Do you think the moon's cycle changes so that I get a break in the holidays?" I said, struggling to control my anger. Snape wasn't putting the same effort in to control his amusement. He stopped walking and turned to me.

"What do you expect me to do Lupin? It takes a week to brew the potion and you are leaving tomorrow. You should have asked me earlier." Snape said, his voice ironically charming. I couldn't help but glare.

"I would have if I thought I needed to ask." I said.

"I only make the potion for you on Dumbledore's orders, not to do you an favours." Snape spat. "And, Dumbledore said nothing about making the potion for you while you are not at Hogwarts. It's a shame you were so abismal at potions otherwise you could make it yourself. Maybe you could hire a potion brewer?"

"You know perfectly well I can't do that!"

"Oh yes that's right, you can't even afford decent clothes." Snape picked at the fraying shoulder of my robes and I flinched.

"What have I done to you?" I whispered. Snape looked me in the eyes so I could see clearly his ugly coal coloured eyes underneath those thick eyebrows that were constantly frowning.

"Think about it, I know it's hard for a beast like you." Snape hissed. I took a long, slow, deep breath, while Snape glowered. Even though I wanted to clatter the insufferable gobshite to hell and back, I couldn't help but admire his ability to hold a grudge.

"Alright, Severus, it's fine." I said my shoulders sinking in defeat. I rubbed my right eyebrow, then looked back at Snape, whose venomous expresion had muted slightly. "I'm sorry for the mistakes I have made in the past. I truly am." Then I left. Feeling altogether rather drained.

That was yesterday and I still felt bad about it. I shouldn't have got so angry. But the bloody git should have known I'd need wolfsbane over the holidays. I fell onto my bed and groaned. It would have been so nice to have James and Sirius here calling Snape names so rude even my mother would have gasped. But the one was dead and the other responsible. I checked my watch. I needed to make my way to the coaches.

With tremendous effort I heaved myself from the bed, collected my things and before too long I was finding a seat on the Hogwarts Express. I intended to stay a night at the Leaky Cauldron so I could haggle for a mortgage in person. Once I found an empty cabin I laughed for a bit at my ridiculous life, then fell asleep.

When I woke up it was because the woman who cleaned the train before it headed back up north had found me still asleep on it. I didn't realise I was so tired.

"Sir? Sir!" She had said whilst poking me. I woke with an undignified snort and noticed that the side of my face was wet with dribble. I wiped it on the sleeve of my robes and looked at the cleaning witch, who seemed to sway slightly.

"We've arrive at Kings Cross. You've gotta get off." She said, looking at my as if I were insane. I hurriedly thanked her and disembarked the train. The station was empty. I must have been very deeply asleep not to notice the train pull into the station and children disembark. I wondered if I was ill.

I made it to the Leaky Cauldron alright though. Once I arrived the place was more animated than I had seen it in a long time, especially not since Black escaped. It was full of twenty-somethings all wearing party hats or waving streamers. As I approached the bar, hoping to catch Tom quickly and escape to my room, I saw that it wasn't all twenty-something actually, nor were there as many people as I first thought. Still, there didn't seem to be anyone in the pub, apart from myself, that was not involved in the festivities. There were all gathered around someone, who I think was blowing out candles on a cake. There was a cheer, then group moved apart and the cake became visible, as did two people I recognised: Ted and Andromeda Tonks. Ted spotted me first and his face broke into a delighted grin, he nudged his wife, who also smiled upon seeing me. The two of them beckoned me over.

"What are you doing here?" Andromeda asked when I arrived next to them.

"I'm staying here tonight. I have some business to sort out." I answered. "What is all this?" I added gesturing to the happy chatting people.

"Oh, it's a party for our daughter." Ted told me proudly. "She has just finished her training." At once my insides started jumping around, maybe I would get to see her as her finally! My eyes darted around the room for her, but I didn't really know what she looked like.

"Though we're not really supposed to say what the party's for." Andromeda said, "Something about being vigilant apparently..."

"I should congratulate her." I said smiling at Tonks' parents.

"Yes, where's she gone..." Andromeda said looking around. She spotted a girl with dark brown hair and walked towards her. I looked at the girl. She wasn't how I imagined Tonks to look. She had a roundish face and rather dull coloured eyes. I would never admit it, but I felt a little disappointed she didn't have pink hair like in the photograph her mother showed me. Was this her natural form perhaps? If it was...why would she wear it to a party? But then Andromeda put her hand on the shoulder of the girl with the snow white shoulder length hair who had her back to me.


	15. A Viral Vacation

Yay Tonks! :)

Chapter 15

Nymphadora Tonks turned to look at me. She looked nothing like the woman I had met in Strabane: she was thinner and her face was heart-shaped not round. She also looked different from the photos I had seen: her eyes were not green like they were in the christmas photo, and her nose was smaller. But when she saw me she gave me such a warm friendly smile, and her eyes were so kind and honest, and I had a feeling I would not have difficulty recognising her in the future. Yes, I could see her now.

"Remus!" She said happily walking towards me. "It is so right that you should be here."

"Sorry, I don't quite understand." I said.

Tonks laughed making me want to hug her, then said, "I would never have graduated without your help with my dissertation!"

"I'm sure that's not true." I said unable to stop smiling. "How was your dissertation received?"

"They said it was 'bold and insightful'" Tonks told me.

"Not too bold I hope."

"Well, a couple of the examiners got all flustered about the stuff about anti-discrimination against half-humans, but Shacklebolt just told them they were bigots and they were overruled."

"Shacklebolt?" I asked thinking about Diana.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, he's top dog at the department after Scrimgeour."

Maybe he was Diana's brother. Hmm, I had slept with an auror's sister...not the most sensible thing I had ever done.

"Well, congratulations Nymphadora."

"Tonks please." She said wincing.

I grinned, "Oh yes, sorry."

"I don't understand why you have such a problem with your name." Andromeda said.

"Tonks suits me better." She said simply. I didn't know if I agreed. "Anyway," she turned back to me, "I should congratulate you too, you're a professor at Hogwarts aren't you?"

"I am yes, how did you know?"

"Augusta Longbottom told me." Tonks said with a mischievous grin.

"Neville Longbottom's grandmother?"

"That's the lady. She said that you are Neville's favourite teacher. She was very proud that Neville bested a Boggart, but she didn't appreciate you using her dress-sense as the butt of a joke." I chuckled as Tonks gave me a mock-reproachful look.

"What's this about Augusta's dress sense?" Ted asked, intrigued by Tonks' and my amusement.

"Professur Lupin here, encouraged Neville to dress a Boggart in the form of Severus Snape, you know the potions master? The one that called me a dirty shape-shifting freak?"

"Oh yes, I remember him!" Andromeda said with a scowl. "I've never met a man so rude!"

"Yeah, well, Neville dressed the Boggart version of him like his grandmother. The vulture topped hat and red handbag and everything."

Ted gave a hearty laugh and Andromeda tittered in approval.

"Did he find out?"

"Uh, yes, he heard and was not best pleased." I replied sheepishly.

"Ha, I'll bet. Up tight wanker."

"Dora! Watch your language."

"Sorry mum. Anyway, Remus needs a drink."

"Yes, but, uh, let me get my room and put my bags away first, then I'll come back down."

"Alright Remus, see you in a moment." Andromeda said.

I found Tom who showed me to my room that looked out onto Diagon Ally. I dumped my bags and my cloak and had a look at myself in the mirror.

"I look bloody awful." I told the mirror.

"Now, don't be putting yourself down love." The mirror said in a croaky female voice. I sighed and stepped forward for a closer look. I looked tired despite my long sleep on the train, and my hair needed a wash. I ran my hands through it a few times, then decided to quickly wash my face. I returned to the mirror the the bedroom (the lighting in the bathroom was very very unkind) to see if a clean face made a difference. It didn't make a lot of difference, in fact I think I looked a little bit paler. Though maybe that was the jumper. I should probably not wear green. I pulled the jumper off quickly, making my hair go uncomfortably static, then rooted around in my bag for the burgundy one I had brought. Once I found it I shoved it on and looking the mirror again.

"Doesn't look much better love." The mirror told me, and I told it where it could go. Then I sighed. Why was I fretting about my appearance anyway?

_Ah it's because, you old pervert..._The wolf began.

"No it's not. Shut up." I said out loud to the voice in my head, then I headed back downstairs, slightly worried that I was going barmy. When I went back down Tonks was locked in a conversation with two of her friends, so I sat at the bar with Ted and we talked about mortgages. Ted had an extraordinary talent for making anything seem hilarious, so as boring and depressing as my house problems were, Ted soon had me in stitches. Tonks' party involved a pub dinner which I was invited to join. I felt a pang of disappointment that Tonks was sat at the opposite end of the table to myself, but the food helped me get over it. After I had been fed and watered the chatter continued around me but I didn't play an active part as I was starting to feel tired again. At eleven I was starting to get a headache and I decided that I was coming down with something and better get to bed. I was sitting at a table with Andromeda and some chap called Furlock, I think he was part goblin, who were talking about Tonks winning the egg and spoon race when she was a child, and how her teachers had almost died from the shock, as apparently, Tonks was a tad clumsy.

"She was very competitive you see, and her desire to win seemed to override her clumsiness." Andromeda explained. I cleared my throat to get her attention.

"Alright Andromeda, I'm going to head off to bed." I said.

"Okay, Remus. Good to see you again." She said as I leant over to kiss her cheek.

"Yes you too, enjoy the rest of your evening. I'll just go say goodbye to Ted and your daughter." I added. I scanned the room for Tonks and her father, saying goodbye to the few wizards I had conversed with during the evening but could no-longer remember the names of. I spotted Ted telling Tom about the time he got conned by a dwarf.

"I'm heading off now Ted." I said once he had noticed me. "Great to see you again. I'll try not to leave it so long next time."

"Be sure you don't." Ted said, shaking my hand, "goodbye Remus."

"Do you know where Tonks is?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps she's gone to the bathroom?" Ted suggested. I nodded in thanks and wandered around the pub for a bit but I didn't find her. I sighed and made my way to the stairs. Yet again, I had come close to getting to know this girl only to find she was snatched away from me.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?" Someone said from behind me. I turned around to find Tonks smiled at me. Oh she had a fantastic smile.

"I was looking for you to say goodbye actually." I said grinning.

"It was nice to see you. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk much." She said, with a shrug. I didn't say anything for a few moments, and Tonks bit her bottom lip wondering what the silence was about.

"I like your hair like that." I said quietly, wondering why I said it seconds later.

"Thanks." She said, also apparently wondering why I said it.

"Where are you living currently?" I asked, again for no apparent reason.

"In london. I'm renting a flat in Camden." Tonks said raising one of her eyebrows at me, obviously wondering what I was getting at. I think I was just buying time. I didn't want this to be another occasion where I only get a glimpse of her. I wanted to see her again, but I didn't know how to ask.

"Anyway, goodnight Tonks." I said gently.

"Goodnight Remus." She returned slightly uncertainly.

When I awoke the next day I couldn't breath through my nose and my throat felt like someone had shoved a toilet brush down there and scrambled things about a bit. I tried to groan, but due to the build up of mucous it came out more of a gurgle. Disgusting. I distracted myself for a bit by trying to remember the dream I was having before I woke up. Tonks was definitely in it, and sleeping in a nest I think. Yeah, that was it, she might have been a fairy.

I had to get up eventually so that I could hassle Gringotts for money. Diagon Alley was packed with witches and wizards out doing their Christmas shopping (apparently their fear of Sirius Black wasn't great enough to stop them shopping). As I weaved my way through the crowds my cloak kept getting caught on people's belt buckles or hats or shopping bags. Even thought it was crowded I still managed to admire the Christmas decorations. Although Diagon Alley didn't look nearly as festive as Hogsmeade, it was still cheerful enough to make me forget my cold and my troubled finances for a while. Boughs of pine trees, festooned with fairies, adorned the shop doorways; mistletoe hung from the street lamps and the shop windows were full of holly, gift ideas, ribbons and bows, miniature reindeer, tiny elves possibly drunk on butterbeer and enchanted snow. The only thing that marred the scene were the posters of Black dotted around the place. He looked godawful. Nothing like the man I know. His hair was lank and dreadlocked and his eyes lost somewhere in his hollow eye-sockets. He was laughing in most of the pictures, but not in the same way that the old Sirius laughed, this laugh was maniacal, hysterical and hopeless.

I tried to ignore the posters and headed to the Apothecary for some Pepper-Up potion. I considered buying a viel of Christmas Spirit, but then decided I couldn't spare the Sickles. I took a small swig of the cold remedy when I left the shop, and coughed steam but felt instantly a bit better. I continued towards Gringotts, peeking in the shop windows as I passed. As I passed the Quidditch shop I saw a large crowd of young wizards pressing their nose against the window.

"I can't believe it's gone." One young wizard said. I looked to the window and saw that whatever broomstick they had displayed there had been removed.

"What'ya talkin' 'bout, moron, did'ya think it was just gonna be there forever."

"No...but, like, it was a Firebolt..."

I ambled on, wondering which lucky kid was going to get a Firebolt for christmas. I noted that Snowy owls were on sale at Eeylop's Owl Emporium, then gazed longingly at the gold telescope in the Astronomy shop. Eventually I got to Gringotts, but despite my dallying I was still early for my appointment.

"Wait over there." The goblin behind the desk told me as he pointed to a row of uncomfortable looking wooden chairs by the wall. I nodded and sat down. While I waited I looked regretfully at the poor state of my boots. The soul had been magically glued back on so many times, but they were still loose, and some of the fastenings had come off. I didn't look like the sort of man you'd give a mortgage to, but I had with me some character references, one of which was written by Dumbledore (it was actually the reference he wrote so that I could get the job at Ariadne's school), so hopefully everything would be okay. And, fortunately, they were: the goblin I had an appointment with, looked over the references and the spec of my house and agreed to give me a mortgage once the ministry had bought it. I left Gringotts feeling a lot merrier than I had gone in. I had even got some money out and intended to buy some christmas gifts for my cousins; now that my house was sorted and I was earning money I felt I could afford to splurge a little on my family.

Unfortunately, I realised as I stood looking at the assortment of pointed hats in the window of Seven Sisters, an alternative clothing shop, I had no idea what to buy anyone. I cursed my male chromosomes for rendering me incapable of buying presents. Then a familiar fairy poked me in the arm.

"Wotcher Remus." She said with her impish grin. I actually laughed and very nearly hugged her. The I felt guilty that I was so pleased to see her.

"Christmas shopping?" She asked.

"Er, well sort of." I replied.

"Who are you getting a niffler fur hat for?" Tonks asked pointing to the hat I was absent-mindedly staring at.

"Oh, ha, no-one, I was just...admiring it's...horrific ugliness." I said and Tonks laughed, making my insides tingle in a very pleasant way.

"I have the same problem. I need to buy a present for my mum, but she's just so hard to buy for. Also, she does that thing where she said 'oh thanks it's lovely!' then pulls a face thinking I can't see and later asks if I kept the receipt." Tonks told me turning to walk down the street and inviting me to walk with her. She complained some more about how hard it is to buy things for her mother, while I admired her bright magenta hair and fur-collared robes.

"Who are you buying for?" She asked me.

"My cousins. They are all muggles." I said.

"Oh. Have to be careful what you get then, so you don't break any secrecy laws." Tonks warned me and I smiled. "Yeah, sorry, you probably knew that..." She added sheepishly.

"Would you like to get a coffee?" I asked.

_MERLIN'S BALLS YOU JUST ASKED HER OUT!_

"Er." She said looking all of a sudden surprised, nervous and embarrassed.

_IDIOT YOU'VE SCARED HER! QUICK BACK TRACK!_

"Just as friends." I added quickly. "I'm far to old for you anyway." Tonks looked relieved, and I wanted to stick my wand up my nose and blow out my brain.

"Sure." She said and we headed to the nearest cafe. Over coffee I asked her how she felt about starting work as a fully qualified auror and she asked me about Hogwarts. She was talkative and witty and enormously enjoyable company. She laughed at my jokes and listened with interest to my stories about Hogwarts, and even though I had very nearly embarrassed myself beyond recovery, she made me feel slightly less of a complete loser. We also talked a little of Sirius Black. She didn't say much on the subject, but it was clear that she was almost as emotionally rattled by the whole thing as I was. Well, almost.

"I thought of a joke about Black though." She said. I looked at her inquisitively. "Satire is the best solution to depressing situations."

"Go on then." I said, grinning in anticipation.

"Why did Sirius Black cross the road twice?"

"I don't know, why did Sirius Black cross the road twice?"

"Because he's a doublecrosser." Tonks said, her expression equal parts hilarity and apology.

"Oh god..." I said starting to laugh. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

"Laugh. It's much better for you." Tonks told me, so I did, harder and for longer than I had done in a long time. When the hilarity subsided I saw that Tonks was looking at me strangely, as if she were confused and maybe slightly upset about something.

"What?" I asked, worried that even though she told the joke, it actually quite upset her.

"Nothing." She lied. "It's just...you have a nice laugh." I raised an eyebrow, firstly because I _didn't_ have a nice laugh, when I really laugh properly, I have a slightly demonic sounding laugh that comes right from my stomach and leaves me quite breathless; and secondly, I had no idea why her thinking my laugh was nice would make her look confused.

"You laugh with your whole body. I like it." She said, looking like she was hugely disappointed by the fact and puzzling me further.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"No." She said. It sounded like she was going to say 'but', but she didn't and just left me confused.

"Shall we go and get your cousins' Christmas presents?" Tonks suggested. I sneezed.

"Yeah okay." I said whilst blowing my nose.

"You have a cold." Tonks remarked.

"Yes I do. Wow, you are good at deduction, no wonder you are an auror." I said.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." She retorted.

"I'm sorry. It wont happen again. I promise."

"You're an idiot."

"Thank you."

Tonks and I spent the afternoon wondering around Diagon Alley sampling Christmas chocolates, trying on santa hats charmed to make you grow elf ears, and getting the mini-santa decorations to ride the mini-reindeer decorations. I ended up getting a selection of magical sweets and crackers for my cousins, and Tonks got her mother a scarf charmed to always be warm. Overall it was a lot of fun, I only embarrassed myself once or twice and she just laughed and thought I was being funny. When we came to say goodbye it got slightly awkward. She said she had a nice time with me, but I got the impression she didn't want me to ask to see her again. So I didn't. I felt disappointed, but more than that I felt guilty. What was I thinking getting a crush on a girl almost young enough to be my daughter? It was a bloody good job she didn't feel the same, because I would only end up disappointing her. I didn't see her again during the holidays, and I spent most of the time convincing myself that I didn't fancy her. By the time term came round I had succeeded in pushing her from my conscious mind completely. My unconscious mind still thought of her quite often however. But in my dreams she was safe, so that is where she would stay.


	16. A Familiar Patronus

Thanks for the reviews. And some new readers I think! Welcome. I'm glad you are enjoying the story and I'll try not to make it too rubbish for you. Sirius will be making an appearance soon. Dead excited!

Okay, some lines taken from Prisoner of Azkaban again. You will recognise them I'm sure.

Chapter 16

I returned to Hogwarts looking like a sick banshee. At least that's what Snape told me as I sat opposite him at breakfast on the first day of term. I have to admit I didn't look my best. The unmedicated full moon, winter flu and a depressing Christmas had all taken their toll on my body. I had lost weight _again _(I loose weight so easily), my skin was pale and I counted at least thirteen more grey hairs. I even found a grey hair on my chest the other day. Horrible. However, whilst I looked awful, I actually felt quite happy to be teaching again.

The sixth years had mastered deflection spells. Last term, while they were learning the spells, I divided them into pairs and one student would shoot paint from their wand in either a straight line, a diagonal sweep or in the manner of a flick curse, while the other tried to deflect these spells, then everyone swapped. I had charmed the students wands so that if they tried to fire any other spell their wand would turn into a courgette. By the end of winter term fewer and fewer students were getting covered with paint, so at the start of spring term, instead of putting everyone into pairs, I divided the class into two teams. I had mixed up the houses in the hope I'd create some inter-house camaraderie.

"Right, this half of the class – you are the blue team." I said smiling at the student's eager faces. I waved my wand and their robes transfigured into blue jumpsuits.

"Which makes this half the red team." I added to the other half of the class, I transfigured their robes into red jumpsuits. "The rules of the game are very simple: whichever team has the most paint-free members by the end of the game wins. And, er, yes that's it. Only one rule. I might make up some more as the game goes on. When you hear this sound -" I transfigured the lamp on my desk into a gong and shook my wand so it transfigured itself into a hammer then hit the gong "-the game is over." The students began to chatter and giggle in anticipation.

"Everyone ready?" I asked grinning at the chaos that was about to ensue. There was a collective shout of affirmation. "Alright! Let the mayhem begin!" At once the air was full of shouts, laughter and paint. I watched the students running around the classroom, ducking behind desks and trying to splatter each other with paint from behind my desk. I was pleased to see they were making good use of the deflection spells to try and keep themselves paint-free. I think Derrick might have been the best at deflection spells, perhaps he took my transfiguration of his nose rather personally. Diana's son, Theo was also particularly skilled.

When the lesson was nearly over and the classroom covered in paint I banged the gong. Reluctantly the student's lowered their wands.

"Alright stand in a line so I can assess the dammage." I said. Breathlessly the assembled themselves in a line. I did a quick count then announced the blue team the winners.

"I've got some chocolate you can have as a prize." I said getting the bars of Honeydukes out of my bottom drawer and leaving them on the desk for the blue team to take. "No-one's managed to beat me in a duel though, so I guess the butterbeer is mine." I added as I began to scorgify the classroom and the children cleaned their jumpsuits then transfigured them back into robes.

"No need to brag, sir." Theo warned me.

"Yes I suppose there is not much prestige for beating a buch of sixteen year olds; still I thought _one_ of you might have managed it." I taunted while I cleaned the paint of the curtains. I turned around to find the whole class looking at me with identical evil grins. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but was unable to complete my sentence as a pint of paint from every wand was fired at me. There was a roar of laughter from the entire class. I wiped the paint from my eyes and spat out the paint that had gone in my mouth.

"Fine...I guess I deserved that." I said joining in with the class' laughter.

"So is the butterbeer ours, sir?" Derrick asked, causing the class to laugh even harder.

"Well, technically, you ganged up on me so I don't know if-" They raised their wands once more, at least I had created that camaraderie I was hoping for, "-alright the butterbeer is yours." I whipped my wand around myself and vanished the paint, though I had a feeling there was still some behind my ear.

"Now bring me your wands so I can take the charm off them." I said as the bell rang signalling the end of the lesson.

I had also started giving Harry extra defence lessons on Thursday evenings. In a rare moment of inspired cogitation I had the idea of using a Boggart for him to practise on. I knew a Boggart-Dementor would have similar powers to a real Dememtor, but I wasn't quite prepared for the potency of the Boggart-Dementor's abilities. When I let the Boggart-Dementor out of the case I kept it in, I found my own worst memories awakening when I looked at it. Though this was nothing compared to what Harry had to endure. The poor boy was forced to relive his parent's dying moments over and over. Every time I had to shake him awake I felt my heart twist with guilt that I was making him go through this. But he was adement that he learn the charm.

At once point he even heard James.

"That's the first time I've ever heard him," Harry told me, as he lay on the floor and I knelt next to him. Harry sat upright and I stood up, my heart beating very quickly. "He tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it..."

I could imagine it too vividly. James telling his wife to take Harry and try to escape, while he drew his wand and prepared to face the dark lord. In my mind, I saw them both dying in their little house in Godric's Hollow. And against my will, I relived the moment Dumbledore delivered the news to me.

_"I'm so sorry Remus..." He said to me as we both sat at my kitchen table. _

_ "No." I had said as I stared at Dumbledore's pale blue eyes. I could tell the worst had happened, but I wasn't going to accept it. _

_ "James and Lily are dead." _

_ "No." I had repeated, shaking my head, determined that Dumbledore was lying. _

_ "Voldemort killed them before he tried to kill Harry. Harry survived-" I could no longer hear his words. I leant forward, thinking that I was going to be sick. I wasn't sick, instead tears started to course from my eyes and my breath caught in my throat. _

_ "Sirius Black..." Dumbledore said, for the first time struggling to find the right words, "he was their secret keeper...he gave the information to Voldemort."_

_ "No, you're lying! That can't be true!" I shouted. _

_ "Peter confronted him, but Black killed him." Dumbledore continued, unable to look at me as he broke the news. I screamed as the pain in my chest became unbearable. _

Harry started fiddling with his shoelace and I was glad he wasn't looking at me. I took a deep breath and composed myself.

"You heard James?" I said, my voice hollow and strained.

"Yeah. Why – you didn't know my dad, did you?" Harry said looking determinedly at me with his piercing green eyes making me feel quite uncomfortable. He looked strangely hopeful, as if my admitting I knew him would somehow bring him back.

"I – I did, as a matter of fact. We were friends at Hogwarts." Harry looked like he was about to ask me a million questions, but I wasn't prepared to talk to him about James, so before he could speak I suggested we end the lesson. But Harry insisted he try the spell once more. This time a burst of silver exploded from Harry's wand and formed a shield between himself and the Dementor. I stared at the beginnings of Harry's Patronus. It was indistinct and getting duller by the second as Harry struggled to keep it present, but by Merlin, I recognised it. Harry's face was getting pale and he looked about to faint again so I jumped forward and the Boggart changed into the full moon. I shuddered at the sight of it. Then I forced it back into the case. Once the Boggart was stowed away I turned to Harry. I couldn't stop thinking about what his Patronus had looked like.

"Excellent!" I told him, still somewhat I awe. "Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?" Harry asked.

"Not now you've had enough for one night." I said, then I gave him a bar of chocolate and started to put the lights out.

"Professor Lupin?" Came Harry's voice from behind me. I stopped putting out the lights but didn't turn around. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well." I turned around to see Harry's face looking bitter.

"What gives you that idea?" I asked, my voice slightly sharper than I intended. Did he know?

"Nothing – I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts, too..." Harry said quickly. I exhaled. Perhaps he didn't know after all.

"Yes I knew him, or I thought I did." I said balling my hands into fists and glancing away from Harry. "You'd better get off Harry, it's getting late." I added. Harry blushed slightly and looked awkward, obviously noticing how uncomfortable I was, then left. Once I was alone in the History of Magic classroom, I sat down at Professor Binns' desk and put my hands over my face. My old friends were foremost in my mind and it didn't look like they were going anywhere.

January turned into February and Harry's Patronus grew steadily stronger. I was very pleased with his progress, though Harry was still not satisfied. He was really quite a perfectionist when it came to defence spells. He was just as determined to do well in our regular class as well. I suppose it was only natural that Harry want to know how to defend himself as he had come face to face with the darkest magic already, and not just when his parents died. I had learnt during my time at Hogwarts the true nature of Quirrell's death, and who had opened the Chamber of secrets. Like most of the wizarding population, I had believed that Voldemort was dead, so learning that in fact he was just powerless and bodiless was terrifying news, as while powerless bodiless Voldemort was not as bad as Voldemort at the height of his power, it was far far more frightening than a dead Voldemort. I also had an endless admiration for Harry's bravery. He had bested Voldemort twice already and he was only thirteen years old. There was no doubt about it: he was going to be a great wizard.

He was also an exceptional flier. I was able to watch him fly his new Firebolt (yes it was Harry who got the Firebolt for Christmas, though who bought it for him is apparently a mystery) in the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in February. He really was talented. Better than James I think.

It was a very exciting match and I don't usually like Quidditch. I used to be quite into it when I was younger, everyone was, but I lost interest in it when I left school. But watching Harry's match felt every bit as exciting as when I was watching James and Sirius. I sat in the stalls next to Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, with the youngest Weasley sibling, Ginny, sitting with her friends in the row in front and the rest of the Gryffindor's not far away. Although I wasn't really supposed to take sides, I had donned my old Gryffindor scarf than morning. Ginny seemed to think this was amusing.

"I knew you'd be a Gryffindor!" She declared loudly when she saw me, then her and her friend Jessica, starting giggling and hurriedly looked away from me. Teenage girls...they are another species entirely.

The match began and I was at once captivated by the skill of the chasers. When I used to play with my friends I avoided playing chaser as I wasn't very good at catching one-handed, so I have always admired chasers, and Gryffindor's chasers were some of the best I had ever seen. Ravenclaw's beaters also, though not as powerful as Fred or George, were very intelligent players, and stopped Gryffindor scoring a number of times and even stopped Harry from catching the snitch once.

"Watch it Harry!" Hagrid yelled out. It was at this point my attention was focused on Harry and from then on I didn't watch any other player. He zoomed around the pitch at phenomenal speed and I struggled to remember that the blur of red robes and black hair wasn't James but his son.

After about twenty minutes Gryffindor were leading eighty to thirty, and Harry suddenly accelerated across the pitch. Everyone looked to where he was headed, including myself, and I could just about make out the glitter of gold that was the snitch. I cheered along with the rest of the Gryffindors. He was miles ahead of Cho, the Ravenclaw seeker, so it looked like the game was won. The excitement from the Gryffindor side was palpable. Then, suddenly three hooded figured appeared on the ground in the middle of the pitch. Dementors. For a moment I was shocked by the audacity of the creatures, coming to the pitch again after Dumbledore warned them not to. Then I noticed something strange about them. They seemed to be shuffling rather than gliding. I didn't have time to examine the 'Dementors' any longer because Harry had fired a Patronus at them. Harry's Patronus was huge and fully formed and charged at the three Dementors, and there was no doubt about it, it was Prongs. The stag that prowled through the forrest, keeping a werewolf company. The stag that I saw transform into the brave and loyal man who should never have died. It felt so strange to see him again.

"That's some Patronus!" McGonagall exclaimed, and I beamed with pride for Harry. I looked back up to Harry who was still sprinting after the snitch. His hand reached out and grabbed it. The whistle blew and there was a roar of celebration from the Gryffindor supporters.

"Yes!" I shouted along with the rest of them, jumping up form my seat and clapping my hands together. James would have been so proud. "Well done Harry!" The Gryffindor team landed on the pitch as a unit of red, and the supporters began to run down to the pitch to congratulate them. Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and I followed them. En route to the forrest of Gryffindors, McGonagall and I decided to investigate the supposed Dementors that had invaded the pitch. As I suspected, rather than Dementors, they were four Slytherin boys tangled in black cloaks yelling at each other and trying to scramble off the pitch.

"What the bloody hell was that thing?" Marcus Flint yelled.

"I dunno, let's get out of here." Draco Malfoy replied. But before they could, McGonagall caught them.

"You boys aren't going anywhere!" She yelled and the four of them froze their faces turning pale. I chuckled to myself and headed over to where I could see Harry being hugged by all the Gryffindors.

"That was quite some Patronus!" I told Harry once I had got close enough.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry yelled excitedly. I smiled somewhat sheepishly, then lead him to where McGonagall was berating the Syltherins. Harry's mouth dropped open when he saw them, half out of surprise half out of hilarity – well he wouldn't have been his father's son if he didn't find Slytherins embarrassing themselves funny.

I walked back towards the castle with a smile on my face.

"What coud you possibly have to smile about Lupin? They haven't invented a cure for that dog breath of yours have they?" Snape hissed at me. I turned to see his bitter snarling face and let my smile slip away.

"I enjoyed the match that's all." I said calmly. Snape tutted, but before he could throw another insult at me, Hagrid stepped in and pointedly asked me if I wanted a drink. I spent the rest of the afternoon with Hagrid consoling him about Buckbeak. I offered what advice I could, but I knew the ministry's department for the regulation and control of magical creatures. They had that stupid werewolf registry that I was supposed to sign. I hadn't because I knew that they would never leave me alone once I did. They'd be constantly checking up on me, making sure I was either medicated or locked away (as if I would ever do anything else) telling me I wasn't allowed to go for certain jobs, trying to get me to move to one of their 'care facilities'. It was sickening. Their werewolf support unit wasn't much better. The ministry had no respect for that which they feared; I knew Buckbeak had little hope.

I returned the castle late that evening a little tipsy from Hagrid's homemade wine even though I had only had one glass. I went to my lodgings and lit a fire with a wave of my wand. I cast a spell over the kettle and teapot that sat on the table, so that it would get going and make a cup of tea for me, then I began to undress. I took off my robes and hung them in the wardrobe. Then I pulled off my jumper and started unbuttoning my shirt. I was just shrugging off my shirt when I noticed the bureau was open. At once I grabbed my wand.

_ "Homenum revelio."_ I said. Nothing happened. I walked to the bureau. My letters and photos and notes had all been moved, but nothing had been stolen. My quarter's were locked with a password that I didn't think a student would have been able to guess; besides a student wouldn't come all they way into my private rooms, they would surely be content searching my office.

_ "Guttae digitus revelio._" I said while I waved my wand over my things. Finger prints began to show up in pink over the photos and letters. I picked up the photo of James and Lily and put my thumb over the thumb print that had been left there. It was as big as mine, so probably too big to be a student. I put the picture down and looked at another. This was a picture of myself when I was about fourteen with James and Peter in James' parents' garden. James and I were bent over looking at something in the pond and Peter seemed to be hiding behind a tree, which was unusual. Normally he was trying all sorts of things to get James's attention in this photo. I shook the photo slightly to see if that would persuade him to come out. He peeked out from behind the tree and I saw that his face had been smudged, so that he looked like a melting wax statue. I put the picture back down. I turned to the letters now and saw that only some of them had thumb prints indicating that the intruder had read only some of them. The intruder had read the letter Tonks had sent me arranging to meet to talk about her dissertation, and the letter Dumbledore had sent me giving his condolences after my mother died. Who would want to read these letters? Who would be this interested in my personal life? Who would be able to guess the password? I could think of only one person.

Anger surged within me. But I ignored it for the time being, the important thing was to tell Dumbledore. I replaced the letters and walked to my fireplace. I threw a handful of floo powder into the flames and called for Dumbledore. I waited a few moments but there was no reply. I strode quickly to my bed and pulled my robes back on then went to find him. I was halfway to his office when I heard it. A scream, and then a crash and someone running. I was too late.


	17. The Marauders' Map

Again, I would like to thank you all for the reviews. I never expected this story to be so well received. And of course, because compliments scare me, I am now paranoid this chapter is not good enough.

There is a dream sequence in this chapter. Now, I'm not all that fond of dream sequences, but I'm not fond of flashbacks either and I've already done a few of those, and JK uses dream sequences and flashbacks quite a lot and as I'm basing this fix on her books I feel it's ok.

Also, there are some lines taken from my second favourite chapter of the Prisoner of Azkaban. These belong to JK, not me.

Chapter 17

I turned over in my bed and wriggled further into the warm soft bedcovers. The woman next to me smiled that heavenly smile of hers and I felt immediately less tense.

"It has to be dark magic doesn't it?" She suggested and I reached under the covers and put my hand on her waist, very pleased to find bare skin beneath my fingers. She giggled slightly as I tickled her, but then allowed me to pull her into my arms. "I mean, this is Hogwarts, it's not like he can just bust open a window and climb in." She added sliding her hand underneath my pyjama shirt.

"I guess." I said. I kissed her temple and rubbed my nose against her soft pink hair. "He could be using a secret passage."

"You checked them all remember?"

"I might have missed one, or forgotten one. It's been a long time since I've used them."

I ran a hand over her hip then to her stomach.

"Your skin is so soft." I added kissing her neck. She flipped herself over then manoeuvred herself on top of me.

"That comes with youthfulness, old man." She teased.

"Please don't call me that." I chastised, although I was grinning. I put my hands on her naked thighs and she grinned as well.

"Why are you wearing pyjamas at a time like this?" She asked me with mock outrage. I looked down at my tatty maroon pyjamas.

"I've no idea," I replied, "but we better rectify the situation don't you think?"

"Oh yes..." She murmured before leaning down to kiss me. I closed my eyes.

Then found them open. I sighed deeply: I always woke up just before the best bit. I turned over in my bed and found it empty save for myself. I reached for my watch. It was five to seven. I was due to get up anyway in five minutes, so with another long sigh I dragged myself out of the bed. As I dressed I thought that it would be quite nice to have Tonks here to talk things through with me. Then again, I hardly knew her. Maybe she wouldn't be as exceptional company as I imagined. Or maybe I was just telling myself that so I wouldn't form a premature attachment. Or maybe I'm over thinking again. I glared at my reflection then headed down to breakfast.

The castle had been searched and the security jacked up to its highest level. Harry was safe and Ron, whom Black had almost killed, was also completely fine. But Black had gotten away again and I couldn't work out how. Even as a dog I don't know how he managed to get in and out of the castle. Dark magic was the only explanation. I ate my porridge slowly my eyes staring at nothing in particular as I thought. My train of thought was broken as I noticed Harry enter with his friend Ron. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and began to converse with other members of their house including Fred and George Weasley. I couldn't hear their conversation from where I was sitting, but I suspect they were talking about Sirius Black, quidditch and maybe the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. They looked happy despite the dangers that had been, and perhaps would be, present in their lives.

Watching them laugh together reminded me of when I was their age. I think I was perhaps more academically minded than Harry or Ron; I had to be, I was never going to get anywhere by luck alone: I was a werewolf, my luck had been officially revoked as soon I was bitten, if I wanted to make anything of myself, if I wanted to achieve anything, I was going to have to work hard for it. Fred and George reminded me a lot of Sirius and James: always out for a laugh; though I had a feeling Sirius and James were (secretly) more interested in getting good grades than Fred or George.

I had heard from the students themselves, and from their parents occasionally, that they were enjoying my classes, but I still was still worried I wasn't doing my best. I owed it to these kids to do the best job that I could. What's more, Spring term was an important term for the students, especially the fifth and seventh years, as OWLs and NEWTs were held in Summer term. I didn't want to have to take time off teaching down to illness this term, which meant I couldn't have anymore bad transformations. I knew my transformations were worse if I was stressed, so I would have to stop agonising about Sirius Black.

Seventh years were required by the Wizarding Examination Authority to know how to cast at least basic defensive without their wands, which was by no means an easy feat. Even I found some of them difficult. Of course such spells are easier to cast wandlessly if one is actually in a situation that requires one to cast a defensive spell, as fear and adrenaline are known to heighten a wizard's powers. Some of my seventh years were having difficulty with wandless spells, even those who knew the theory like the back of their hand. Penelope Clearwater was one such example. She was an extremely intelligent witch and always tried hard, but she lacked confidence and as a consequence found wandless spells particularly difficult. It didn't help that Percy Weasley (whom I understand was going out with Penelope) mastered wandless spells almost straight away and repeatedly told Penelope it was easy. Modesty wasn't a trait that any of the Weasleys had in abundance, but Percy was especially self-important, which was a shame because in other respects he was a nice boy.

"You are doing fine Penelope." I told her after her fifth attempt to wandlessly cast a shield charm resulted in a shield that lasted all of three seconds.

"You're just saying that to be nice." She complained as she looked jealously over at her boyfriend's exceptional demonstration of the charm. I sighed and rubbed my chin as I thought. Then I had a brilliant idea (if I do say so myself). I grabbed a piece of paper from my desk, quickly wrote a message to Madam Hooch, folded the message into a paper aeroplane, cast a quick charm over it then sent it flying out of the classroom door. Once I got a message back I turned to the class.

"Okay class, we're going outside." I said. The class didn't move at first, instead they just looked at me as if I were insane. "Come on, it's a nice day." The class exchanged incredulous remarks then followed me down the corridor and outside the main doors onto the grounds. Once outside I led the students to the broom shed just outside the quidditch pitch where Madam Hooch was waiting.

"Good afternoon Professor. It's not often I'm asked to assist with a defence class, but I admit I'm quite excited." She said brightly. I smiled warmly at her then set about explaining my plan.

"Each student will need to borrow a broom if that's alright." I said and the students exchanged excited whispers. "Now, we're going to play, um, tag basically." The class all laughed.

"Yes, I know it's a bit childish, but it's fun right?"

Some of them nodded while others shrugged.

"Yes well," I paused to conjured five long red sashes, "Okay, can you divide up into pairs?" The class did as they were told (Percy with Penelope of corse, which I actually thought a bad idea, but I didn't say anything).

"Now, you can decide amongst yourselves who will be chaser and who will be chased, but the aim of the chaser will be to pull the sash from the other players waist. So here take a sash. The finish line will be over there, up near the castle. I'll wait there with a flag so you wont miss it. I have another task for you once you finish, so if you would, one pair at a time please." The class were still looking at me like I was crazy, but they all seemed quite keen to play the game.

"Madam Hooch, if you would be so kind as to marshal the pairs."

"Certainly professor." She said.

"Alright, I'll head over to the finishing line." I said before I began the trek back towards the castle.

"Alright, which pair wants to go first? No-one? Fine I'll choose then." I heard Madam Hooch saying as I walked away. "Mr Davies and Mr Frost, you two can go first. Step forward, that's it. Right, on my first whistle the person to be chased will kick off and head to the finishing line, on my second whistle the chaser can kick off. Understand?"

I reached the other end and transfigured a fallen tree branch into a flag. The waited for the first pair. Rodger Davis and Eddie Frost arrived smiling and looking flushed just as I had hoped. The landed on the damp ground and walked towards me expectantly.

"Alright, dump your brooms over there," I said pointing to the space next to me, "Then I want you to wandlessly cast a shield charm." They looked at each other silently trying to work out why I wanted them to play broomstick tag before casting the charm, but then put down their brooms and did as I asked. Both of them held out their hands, called out _protego_, and were surrounded by transparent protective bubbles. I smiled at them both, but Rodger and Eddie weren't the ones having difficulty with the charm so this wasn't proof that my plan had worked.

"Well done, both of you." I said.

"What's this all about then?" Rodger Davies said plonking himself down on the grass.

"Adrenaline can heighten a witch or wizard's powers," I explained to the pair of them, "and as some of you have been having difficulty with the shield charm, I thought playing this game to increase adrenaline levels might help."

"Oh I see!" Eddie Frost exclaimed.

"That's quite a good idea sir." Rodger added.

"I don't know why you sound surprised." I added and the pair of them chuckled then began to converse among themselves while I watched for the next pair. Everyone managed to perform the charm, even if it took some of them a few tries. Eventually it was Penelope and Percy's turn.

"Alright you two, I want to you cast a shield charm now." I told them. Penelope looked slightly nervous, but I think she was too breathless to really worry about it. Which was exactly what I was hoping for. She took a deep breath, raised her hands in front of her, furrowed her brow in concentration then cried "Protego!" Immediately a transparent bubble formed around her. Her face cracked into a grin.

"I did it!" She squealed. And I grinned.

"Excellent! That was perfect." I said. She smiled and I felt a glow of pleasure that I had caused that smile. She could now do something that she couldn't do yesterday, and I had helped her achieve that. This is what I love most about teaching.

What I like least about teaching is the marking. It takes such a long time, and after reading 20 different versions of the same essay it's awfully tempting to just give everyone Exceeds Expectations. Of course I don't do that, because firstly, I'm a good teacher, and secondly, I would hate for Snape to ever be right about my being too generous with my grades. By a strange twist of fate, I was thinking about Snape whilst marking one saturday afternoon when his ugly head appeared in my fireplace.

"Lupin! I want a word!" He barked rudely at me.

I rolled my eyes and hissed under my breath, "you know manners wouldn't hurt you Severus." I grabbed some floo power, threw it in the fire then stepped in. I stepped out of Snape's fireplace and saw him standing next to Harry who was looking equal parts terrified and defiant.

"You called, Severus?" I said mildly, looking at Snape's fury filled face.

"I certainly did," Snape snarled as he slithered back towards his desk, "I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this." Snape pointed to a piece of parchment that was lying on his desk. I walked forward and looked at it. My heart jumped into my throat and tried to perform some sort of latin dance with my tonsils as I read what was written on the parchment. But I made a conscious effort to keep my face neutral.

"_Mr Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business." _Was there a time when I would have said that to another person?

_"Mr Prongs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."_ Oh Prongs, have you any idea how much trouble you are getting your son into?

_"Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a Professor."_

_"Mr Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball."_

"Well?" Snape spat looking pointedly at me. I continued to stare at the map and said nothing while I thought.

"_Well_?" Snape said again, "this parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?" I looked up at Snape who was staring at me with one eyebrow raised. What was he suggesting? I glanced at Harry silently warning him not to say anything.

"Full of Dark Magic?" I asked, my voice deliberately calm. "Do you really think so Severus? It looks to me as thought it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who tries to read it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harry got it from a joke-shop-"

"Indeed?" Snape snapped. He stepped an inch closer and stared angrily into my eyes. I deliberately imagined a shutter closing in my mind, hiding all my secrets from him. I was not as skills an occlumens as Snape was, but I knew enough to protect myself form him.

"You think a joke-shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufacturers_?" Snape suggested. I wasn't sure whether he really knew, or whether he was just bluffing, but his suggestion that I would give Harry the map angered me. I didn't let my feelings show, instead I feigned mild confusion.

"You mean, from Mr Wormtail or one of these people?" I asked, I turned to Harry, "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No." Harry replied emphatically.

"You see, Severus?" Said calling Snape's bluff. "It looks like a Zonko product to me-"

Suddenly, as if it had been planned, Ron burst in and declared loudly that he had bought everything (the map included) from Zonkos.

"Well!" I said loudly, clapping my hands together and smiling, "that seems to clear that up."

"Severus, I'll take this back shall I?" I added quickly, snatching the map and stuffing it into the inside pocket of my robes before Snape could argue.

"Harry, Ron, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay. Excuse us, Severus." I said to Harry and Ron giving them both stern looks. The three of us walked out of Snape's office. I didn't dare look back. I don't know which would make him more angry: that he failed to punish Harry, or that he failed to out me as Moony.

Once in the Entrance Hall, Harry began guilty, "Professor, I-"

But I cut him off, "I don't want to hear explanations." I checked there was no-one about to overhear, then spoke to the two boys.

"I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mr Filch many years ago." The two boys looked at me with amazement. "Yes I know it's a map. I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harry."

If Sirius got hold of the map, who knows what damage he could do.

"Why did Snape think I'd got it from the manufacturers?" Harry asked.

"Because..." I began, then I paused. It wasn't yet time for Harry to know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were. "Because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of the school. They'd think it extremely entertaining." My fear was that one of the mapmakers would find it entertaining for all the wrong reasons.

"Do you know them?" Harry asked me. He seemed to be impressed.

"We've met." I replied shortly. As I looked at Harry I saw his father's dead face, and felt terrified that Harry might meet the same end at the hands of the man who betrayed his father.

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harry." I said sternly. "I cannot make you take Sirius Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them – gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."

Harry's shoulders sank and his face flooded with guilt. Perhaps I had been a bit harsh. But I desperately, _desperately_, didn't want Harry to endanger himself unnecessarily. Although I was terrible at expressing it, I did care very deeply for the boy. I left Ron and Harry alone and returned to my office.

Once in my office I took out the map and laid it on my desk.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." I told it whist pressing my wand to it. At once Hogwarts began to appear. One good thing had come form this at least. With the map I could watch for Sirius Black, as he would show up even if he were in his dog form, and perhaps even stop him if he tried to break into the castle again.

SO EXCITED ABOUT SIRIUS RETURNING! ahem, escuse me...


	18. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot And Prongs

Okay, time for Lupin's pov of the best chapter in POA (abbreviations are fun).

Credit where credit is due, ALL of the spoken lines in this chapter belong to JK (along with the characters etc). I've also borrowed the 'embraced him like a brother' line cos I love that line. I've got rid of the capitals though. I don't like it when characters speak in all capitals. I also don't like it when characters go "Noooo!" because I hear it in my head as rhyming with 'goo', and it just sucks all the drama out of the scene.

But anyway, the important thing is EVERYTHING BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.

Chapter 17

_The map never lies._

I had perused the map almost every night since I had confiscated it. I had not seen Sirius Black, or anything unusual for weeks. I was beginning to think that perhaps Black had given up, or changed tactics. But on the night Buckbeak was due to be executed I sat down with the map again. I had seen Hagrid earlier that day to offer my sympathy. I knew Harry, Ron and Hermione were good friends of Hagrid's so I had a suspicion that they would sneak out of the castle to comfort him. So while I had some free time before I was due to take my last dose of wolfsbane, I took out the map, searched for three dots labeled Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and followed them as they moved around the castle. I saw them leave through the main doors of the castle and walk closely together down to Hagrid's, no doubt under Harry's invisibility cloak. They stayed inside Hagrid's hut for approximately twenty minutes, in which time I made myself a cup of tea. I sat back down at my desk with my tea and looked at the map. What I saw made me drop the cup. It hit the floor with a smash, but I ignored it and leant closer to the map. His name must have been obscured by the ink wall of Hagrid's hut which is why I had not seen it before. But there is was, the ink shining in the evening light, Peter Pettigrew.

How could this be? He was dead! How could be in Hogwarts? I could scarcely believe it but, the map never lies. Peter was alive. Which meant that Sirius Black had not killed him. Of course this still did not mean that Sirius was innocent, twelve other people died that day and, as far as I knew, Sirius was still the secret keeper, but it meant that I did not know the whole story. I continued to watch as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Peter left Hagrid's and headed back to the castle. Then Peter suddenly rushed away from the other three. Ron chased after him. Harry and Hermione followed Ron and then there he was! Sirius Black. He, Ron and Peter moved towards the Whomping Willow then slipped into the secret passageway. Harry and Hermione, after a few moments battling the tree followed. I jumped from my seat and charged form my office, not even bothering to wipe the map or lock my door.

I barely registered the journey to the Shrieking Shack. I didn't feel the cool evening air, I didn't hear my feet crunch on the earth floor of the secret tunnel, I didn't hear the creaks of the floorboards as I entered the main room of the Shack. I did, however, hear Hermione's shout coming from upstairs.

"We're up here!" She screamed. I followed her voice upstairs. I drew my wand, pushed open the door of the only bedroom in the Shack. Ron was lying on the bed his face white and his leg obviously broken, Hermione was standing flattened against the wall near the door and Harry was standing over the supine form of my old friend ready to kill him.

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted. Three wands were snatched from the hands of the children and flew into my own. I looked down at Black who had Hermione's ginger cat standing on his chest. He was a ghost of the handsome man he once was. His skin was grey, his dark hair long and matted and he looked practically skeletal he was so thin. Blood was also dripping from his nose. My eyes flicked to Harry who had traces of blood on his fists. Apparently they had had a fight. And Harry over powered Black? A powerful dark wizard?

"Where is he, Sirius?" I asked, struggling to contain the countless emotions churning within me. Sirius stared at me for a few moments, then he raised his hand and pointed towards Ron. The three children looked and Sirius and I with incredulous expressions. I ignored them and looked at Ron and saw something wriggling inside one of his pockets. I turned back to Sirius.

"But then...why hasn't he shown himself before now?" I wondered, Black raised his eyebrows slightly and silently gave my thoughts a nudge in the right direction. "Unless -" suddenly it dawned on me "- unless _he_ was the one...unless you switched...without telling me?"

Sirius nodded slowly. I took a deep breath.

"Professor Lupin what's going-?" Harry began. I ignored him, walked to Sirius and helped him to his feet, then embraced him like a brother. He was back. I had him back.

"I don't believe it!" Hermione screamed. I let Sirius go and turned to Hermione who was looking at me with blind fury.

"You! You -" She screeched.

"Hermione -" I said trying to placate her.

" -you and him!" Her face was contorted with rage making her look at least four years older.

"Hermione, calme down -"

"I didn't tell anyone!" She yelled at me, perhaps feeling like she had been personally betrayed. "I've been covering up for you -"

"Hermione, listen to me please!" I shouted over the top of her. "I can explain -"

"I trusted you and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong, I haven't been Sirius's friend for twelve years, but I am now...let me explain..." When has anyone ever said than and then been allowed to?

"No!" Hermione shouted holding her hand up at me, making me take a step back. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too – _he's a werewolf_!"

There was a sudden silence. She said it with such venom, as if my being a werewolf was evidence enough to prove me guilty of any and all crimes they suggested. My hands shook slightly. With anger or with hurt I wasn't sure.

"Not up to your usual standard, Hermione," I said as if we were discussing an essay of hers. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead...but I won't deny that I am a werewolf." Even after all these years, it still made me shudder to say it.

"How long have you known?" I asked Hermione.

"Ages. Since I did Professor Snape's essay." She replied in an angry hiss.

"He'll be delighted," I said with slight shrug, "he set that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realise that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realised that Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both." She said.

"You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever men, Hermione." I said with a mirthless laugh.

"I'm not, if I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know. At least the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped from the bed. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so. He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy -" I began but Harry cut me off. He stepped towards me, his hands balled into furious fists.

"And he was wrong! You've been helping him all the time!"

"I have not been helping Sirius!" I insisted. "If you give me a chance I'll explain." Then, to convince them, I handed the children back their wands and put mind back into its holder on my belt. The children regarded me with suspicion, but allowed me to talk. I told them what I had seen on the map, but they refused to believe that Peter was alive, or that he was the squirming rat Ron was holding by the tail.

"You're both mental." Ron exclaimed shaking his head.

"Peter Pettigrew is dead!" Harry yelled, then he jabbed an accusing finger at Sirius, "he killed him twelve years ago!"

"I meant to!" Sirius snapped, baring his yellow teeth, "but little Peter got the better of me...not this time, though!" Sirius launched himself towards Ron.

"Wait! You can't do it just like that – they need to understand – we've got to explain!" I yelled as I grabbed Sirius by the shoulder's and pulled him back. He struggled against me, but he was surprisingly weak and it wasn't difficult for me to restrain him. I understood completely Sirius' desire for vengeance, but I also knew that it was much more difficult to gain the trust of others _after_ you had committed murder. Reluctantly Sirius agreed to let me illuminate Harry and his two friends. I wasn't sure how much to tell the three of them, but when Hermione insisted that Peter couldn't be one and the same being as Ron's ugly pet rat because he wasn't registered as an Animagus, I could tell I wasn't going to have to tell them everything, right from the beginning.

I told them of how my friends became Animagi for me, an act of generosity that to this day I am awed by and do not believe that I deserved. I told them of how guilty I now feel to have endangered the lives of my friends and fellow students by betraying Dumbledore and how cowardly I had been not to tell to Dumbledore the truth this year. I don't think the children fully comprehended the extent of my self-hatred. Once I began my self-abusive reminiscing, it was difficult to stop; I told them about the most deplorable event in my past: the time I almost killed Snape. I was so consumed by self-loathing as I told the tale, I didn't notice the man standing behind me until I heard his voice.

What followed occurred mostly beyond the range of my perception as Snape, who must have taken a special class in being infuriating, bound me in ropes that were so tight it was difficult to breathe and a gag that cut painfully into the sides of my mouth and I was reduced to a motionless heap on the floor. After a few moments where Snape demonstrated just how worthwhile that class had been, Harry, Ron and Hermione finally decided they'd had enough and knocked him out with three particularly potent disarming spells. Sirius unbound me once Snape was down and we explained to Harry that _Peter_ had been the Potter's secret keeper, that _Peter_ had betrayed them by giving the information to Voldemort, that _Peter_ had killed all those people and framed Sirius. But they struggled to believe us, and I could understand why: it is hard to be told that something you have been certain was true, that everyone else believed was true, was in fact a lie; but even I was getting impatient. I had questions I wanted answered, and...I wanted retribution.

We forced Peter to transform. He looked terrible. He was balding and had aged even worse than I had, but worst of all, the thing that made him look quite repulsive, was the desperation and guilt plastered all over his face and dripping form his trembling lips. I have felt the desire to kill before. When I'm a wolf that desire is constantly there, and without wolfsbane it is all consuming. And during the first war I had been in battles where I had tried to kill my opponents – but during these battles I had wanted to kill my opponents more out of fear that if I didn't they would kill me, I had not felt that dark desire to end another life, to take from them what I had no right to take, which was probably why I had not managed to cast an effective killing curse. But I felt it now. He had betrayed me. He had murdered two of my best friends and sent the other to Azkaban for twelve years. I wanted to kill Peter and I didn't care what the consequences would be.

There were a few questions to be answered first, like how Sirius had broken out of Azkaban, and why Peter had not tried to kill Harry after his master had fallen, and how Sirius knew where to find Peter. And we had to convince Harry that Peter was the guilty one. When Harry finally believed that Sirius was innocent, Peter cried out and began to beg for his life, confessing that he had betrayed us out of fear. It was pathetic and disgusting and only made me want to kill him more.

"You should have died! Died rather than betray your frieds, as we would have done for you!" Sirius shouted at the cowering Peter. I stood next to my old friend as we both raised our wands.

"You should have realised, if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye Peter." I was fully prepared to commit murder but Harry stopped me. And I am glad he did. Harry was right, James would not have wanted Sirius and me to murder Peter. I felt momentarily weak with guilt.

_I guess you are not so different from me Lupin?_ The wolf hissed at me and I couldn't contradict him. It was unlike me to desire violence, being forced to endure it against my will every full moon usually meant I avoided it at all costs, but I guess the wolf was right, I had more of him in me than I realised.

We chained Peter to myself and to Ron, then levitated Snape then began to walk back up to the castle. We reached the end of the tunnel and I went out first with Peter and Ron. Then suddenly pain flashed in every part of my body. I gasped as the moon light engulfed me. I had not realised it had got so late.

_Don't! No! Don't!_ I begged my body. But it was no good, my limbs had started to shake and I could feel the ache in my bones as they started to stretch. Peter bent away form me, knowing what was coming, while Ron just stared with his mouth hanging open. I could hear Sirius telling the children to run, but it was so hard to continue to pay attention to my surroundings as the pain increased. I tried to cry out as my insides burned with agony, but it came out as a snarl as my throat had already transformed. I fell to my knees and clawed at the robes that were now constricting me.

_Blood! Blood!_ The wolf screamed, and it was so hard to resist him. _They are so close! Kill them!_

Suddenly a dog was on me, clawing at my muzzle, trying to push me away from the humans. I swiped my claws at him. I was so much stronger than the ragged thing. It jumped at me again and bit my ear. I growled at it, but there was something about it I recognised. I looked at the dog. Sirius! Suddenly I remembered that this body wasn't really mine, and nor was the desire to tear apart anything human. I remembered I was really a man who would never kill innocent children. But I was in the wolf's body now, and it was so hard to retain control over it. I looked back at the humans felt so afraid. They were just children. I ran. I had to get away. I wasn't safe. This wasn't safe. I fled into the forrest.

OK, hope you liked it and the werewolf bit at the end wasn't too confusing. Also, I hope you didn't think the bit where Lupin wants to kill Peter too out of character. But well, it did say in the book that he wanted to kill him, and it is a full moon, and even the gentlest people in the world can be driven to kill. Human beings are very complex.


	19. Sirius Black Was Back

Yay Sirius. :)

Chapter 18

It had been three weeks since I left Hogwarts. I was back at home in Ireland. I had not seen Sirius since he had escaped with Buckbeak. I wanted to speak to him, but I didn't know how to contact him. Sending an owl might compromise his hiding place wherever that may be. I would happily hide him at my house, but the ministry had already sent a law enforcement squad to search my house and I had been questioned by the auror currently in charge of the investigation. Unfortunately it wasn't Tonks who was questioning me, but fortunately it wasn't Kingsley Shacklebolt – though, perhaps my sleeping with Diana might have made a good alibi. But Sirius actually sent me a letter asking to visit. As the ministry's heavies had already searched my house and found nothing, I figured it wasn't dangerous for Sirius to pay a short visit. I wasn't sure when to expect him, and in keeping Sod's Law, I was in the shower when Sirius arrived. And, being Sirius, he didn't wait around for me to answer the door, instead he broke in and began raiding my kitchen. So when I came downstairs in my pyjamas I almost choked on air when I saw a skinny, long haired wizard eating cured ham out of the packet.

"Merlin!" I exclaimed.

"No. Better. It's me." He said, and I laughed. I walked over to Sirius and pulled him into a hug. He was a little surprised and consequently choked on the ham he was eating. I let go and hit his back. He coughed.

"I'm fine." He said after a minute or two.

"What are you eating that for?" I said taking the ham from him.

"I'm hungry." Sirius said.

"Well sit down I'll make you some dinner." I said opening the fridge and having a look inside. There was some old, disturbingly flaccid lettuce, some mouldy cheese and more condiments than it was appropriate for me to own. Fridges were useful appliances to be sure, but they didn't compare to a good preserving charm. "Oh...I have no food..."

"I know, that's why I was eating the ham." Sirius said sitting down at my kitchen table. I spotted some eggs.

"I can make you an omelette?" I suggested. Sirius said nothing, instead he rubbed his face with his dirty hands and pushed his long tangled hair out of his face.

"Sound's great..." He said looking like he was about to fall asleep at the table.

"Where's Buckbeak?" I asked.

"In your garden, trying to eat your chickens." Sirius replied with a flicker of amusement.

"What?"

"It's alright, he's tied up and he shouldn't be hungry: he ate about four rabbits earlier." Sirius said. "He'll probably go to sleep once he realises he can't reach the chickens."

I sighed. "Where have you been?" I asked as I got the eggs out of the fridge.

"I've uh..." Sirius said before he resting his head on the table. "Lots of places. All horrid." I sighed and looked at my old friend. I remembered the countless times he and James and Peter visited me in the hospital wing after a transformation loaded with chocolate and sympathy. They had looked after me back then, now I guess it was time I returned the favour.

"Would you like some coffee or tea?" I asked. Sirius lifted his tired head.

"You got any booze?" He asked. I grinned and summoned the wine.

Sirius ate his omelette slowly, as if it might be his only meal in God knows how long and hence he should savour it. But he drank the wine quickly. Both of us had a certain fondness for alcohol that James had lacked, when we were younger we could drink him under the table quite easily; Sirius didn't seem to have lost this skill as he was now drinking the wine like water and it didn't seem to be having any effect on him, whereas I had become much less alcohol tolerant as I had got older. Once he had finished eating we spent the next few hours talking. Reminiscing mostly. I didn't ask about Azkaban. I could tell Sirius didn't want to talk about it, moreover I doubt there was much to say. Azkaban wasn't like a muggle prison: prisoners weren't given rehabilitation therapy or counselling or even allowed to mix with the other inmates: Azkaban was about isolation and mental punishment.

I had been their once. I had been falsely accused of helping another werewolf avoid conviction for the murder of a mother and her two children. At the time it was common for criminals not to be given a trial, so I was sent to Azkaban without one. I was there for two weeks before Moody managed to convince the Wizengamot that I was innocent. It was a horrible experience. I was lucky that this was early in my life as a soldier for the Order of the Phoenix and before Lily and James were killed, when my mind was at its strongest. Had I been sent to Azkaban after James and Lily's death, or during those two years where my mind was so weak it could barely hang on to reality, I don't think I would have survived even two weeks. How Sirius managed to survive twelve years of that torture I couldn't fathom. But he had always been stronger than me. When the four of us, that is James, Sirius, Peter and I left school, we all joined the Order. We were young then and didn't realise what a dangerous and challenging task we were taking on. James was fortunate that he had a family to ground him and to act as an antidote to the death and destruction we all had to witness. Of the rest of us, Sirius was the only one able to remain confident and determined to see the war end, in the face of everything falling to pieces around us. I became more and more hopeless as the war went on, and, well, Peter was driven to joining the other side, so there is no doubting his weakness. Sirius was the strongest, and the bravest, and fought the hardest; and yet he had been punished so greatly for it. I felt a rush of desperate anger at the incredibly pointless and futile nature of war. No-one ever wins a war. In the end, everyone is punished, even the bravest soldiers like Sirius.

Sirius, however, did ask me what I had done during the twelve years he was in prison.

"What happened when I went away?" He asked me. "What did you do?"

"What did I do?" I repeated with a sigh. "I did very little, but still, somehow, it would take an age to tell you what happened." Sirius just looked at me and waited, presumably for him, nothing could take longer than twelve years in Azkaban.

"I missed you and James and Lily very much." I said, my voice quiet and honest. "Too much. I didn't know what to do without you. I didn't know how to fill up my day. I forgot about everything I had been interested in. I forgot how to work, how to read. Then I forgot how to do anything." Sirius's brow was furrowed and his eyes full of worry and, strangely, apology.

"I had to go into hospital, because I could no longer look after myself." I admitted.

"Hospital?" Sirius questioned, biting his dry lips "You mean, a mental hospital?"

"Yes." I acknowledged. While I usually struggled talking about this period of my life, it felt natural to tell Sirius about it. "I had very severe depression. I might as well have been in Azkaban with you, Sirius. Everyday I felt like I was surrounded by Dementors."

"I'm so sorry." Sirius said, his kind face lined with anxiety.

"Sorry?" I said. "It wasn't your fault. And I got better. I have felt that way for years now."

"It _was_ my fault though." Sirius said his hands shaking slightly as lifted one to cover his mouth. "Everything was my fault."

"It was not your fault Sirius. None of it was your fault." I insisted forcefully. But Sirius couldn't seem to hear me. He was looking around the room as if I were not in it and when he spoke he seemed to be speaking more to himself than to me.

"I should not have told James to make Peter his secret keeper. It is my fault they are dead." Sirius rambled. "I should not have suspected you! How could I have suspected you? What sort of friend must I have been to turn on you, for absolutely no reason!"

"You did have reason. A lot of the Order suspected me."

"Because you were a werewolf! And that is no reason! I certainly should not have suspected you because of it."

"You suspected me because I was a werewolf?" I asked, slightly surprised.

"In a way." Sirius admitted, his face torn with guilt. He looked so sorry that I couldn't feel angry at him. "I thought that, the werewolves you were tracking might convince you to join them. I thought, that perhaps, because you were treated so badly by people on our side, they might convince you to join their side." The tension left my shoulders: Sirius hadn't suspected me because I was a werewolf, he suspected me because I was human, and as such, prone to giving up.

"Sirius, that is no different from me suspecting you because I worried that you might give in to pressure form your family." I said. "I forgive you completely for suspecting me, because I made the exact same mistake in not trusting you. We all make mistakes Sirius."

"You know, I used to wish that I had been right, that you'd been the spy." Sirius said. I frowned and rubbed my eyebrow, not quite sure what to think. "Because then, James wouldn't be dead, and I would not have to live with the fact that I made such a dreadful mistake."

"Do you still wish that?" I asked quietly.

"No." Sirius answered. "When you turned up at the Shack and you asked me where Peter was, I – it felt like, we'd never not been friends. And I, I was so glad you were there. And I'm glad I was wrong, because I can live with loosing Peter. I couldn't live with loosing you."

I didn't know what to say to that. So instead of speaking I reached out and put my hand over Sirius' and squeezed it.

"You can stay here for few days, if you like." I said, "but you can't hide here. The ministry already suspect me."

"That's alright. I was thinking about going to Singapore." Sirius said.

"Singapore? Why Singapore?"

"There aren't that many wizards there. I don't think anyone would look for me there."

"Seems sensible."

"Seems boring."

I grinned. "Listen, it's late, you look very tired, why don't you have a bath while I make a bed up for you?" After a moment's thought Sirius nodded.

"Can I borrow your wand?" Sirius asked.

"What for?" I questioned.

"To cut my hair." Sirius said.

"Oh, um, no."

"Why not?"

"My wand a bit fussy about other people using it. It's very territorial. You might end up bald."

"Oh yeah...I remember James picking up your wand by mistake once and instead of casting a hot-air charm he ended up covered in fur."

"Well, exactly."

Sirius had a bath, and wearing some of my pyjamas went to sleep in the spare room. I went to bed as well and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke up later in the night though, because I could hear Sirius shouting. I grabbed my wand and sprinted from my room, I burst into his to find that he wasn't being attacked, the ministry's Hit-Wizard's hadn't burst in through the window, Sirius was just calling out in his sleep. He woke when I came into his room. He was dripping with sweat and panting, and seemed quite disorientated.

"Are you alright?" I asked, stepping towards the bed and illuminating Sirius with my wand light. Sirius looked in my direction, but not really at me, and then began to cry. I didn't really know what to do. I had only see Sirius cry, properly I mean, about three times. Once when Regulus began school and Sirius was suffering because of his unloving abusive family; again after the Snape incident when I refused to speak to him for three weeks and when Edgar Bones and his family were murdered. I stood still for a few moments feeling awkward while Sirius sobbed into the pillow. Then I approached the bed and sat on it next to Sirius. He pulled himself upright and gripped my shoulder, all the while crying and muttering things that I couldn't quite hear. I hesitantly patted his shoulder.

"They killed a little boy..." I heard him say. Then he told me what disgusting things he had heard the Death Eaters in prison admit to doing. I comforted him best I could until he fell asleep again. Then I returned to my own bed and lay awake for a while. He seemed very unstable. At times I could see flashes of his old self, and he surely must feel enormous relief to be away from the Dementors, but I worried what the years in Azkaban might have done to him.

When I got up the next day Sirius was already in the kitchen looking for the coffee. He seemed a bit nervous and still looked very tired, so I suggested he go back to bed for a bit and I'd bring his coffee up to him. When I went upstairs with his coffee however, he had fallen asleep again. So I charmed the coffee to stay warm until he woke up and left him be.

I went back downstairs and was greeted by a howler.

"IT'S AN ABOSOLUTE DISCRACE...CAN'T BELIEVE DUMBLEDORE'S AUDACITY...A WEREWOLF TEACHING MY CHILDREN...YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF ENDANGERING YOUNG PEOPLE...CREATURES LIKE YOU SHOULD BE LOCKED UP...NEVER COME NEAR MY CHILDREN AGAIN."

I sighed deeply as the howler burst into flames leaving a pile of ash in my hallway. I had received a lot of letters and howlers like that since I resigned. As if I didn't feel guilty enough already for my foolishness. When I handed in my resignation Dumbledore was understanding and kind as always, but I could tell he was angry with me for putting his students in danger. He forgave me because he is that sort of man. But I hadn't forgiven myself. I should never have even taken the job, not when I knew the risks.

I decided to ignore my post that morning and instead read the paper. Sirius's escape from Hogwarts right under the nose of Cornelius Fudge was the top story, unsurprisingly. But a few pages in there was a rather more interesting article. Ministry worker, Bertha Jorkins had gone missing during a holiday in Albania. The article was very short, apparently the Profit didn't think Bertha going missing was interesting news, but I did. The article read:

_Bertha Jorkins, 36, of the Derpartment of Magical Games and Sports, has been reported missing. Suspicions were raised when Ms Jorkins failed to return to work after her two week holiday in Albania. Ludo Bagman, head of the Derpartment, assured the Profit that Ms Jorkins 'probably just forgot. She's not the brightest of witches. She's probably still in Albania drinking Dukagjin and having a jolly good time'. When asked about the secret sporting event that is allegedly due to take place some time this year, Mr Bagman tapped his nose and said, 'ah, I don't want to spoil the surprise'. It is likely that Ms Jorkins was also involved in the planning of this secret event._

I scratched my chin. I remember hearing a while ago that Voldemort was supposed to be hiding in Albania; I also remembered that people going missing was exactly how it began last time. Sirius came downstairs whilst I was thinking about the article and peered over my shoulder.

"What are you reading that's got you looking like you've got a wand up your arse?" He asked me. I rolled my eyes and handed him the paper pointing at the article. Sirius took the paper and sat down on the sofa with it. It was at this point that I noticed he had cut his hair and was wearing some of my clothes. I felt a stab of envy as my black jeans and grey sweatshirt looked infinitely better on him than they did on me.

"How did you cut you hair without a wand?" I asked.

"I used scissors didn't I?" He said with a shrug. "Does it look okay?" He had cut his hair so that it fell to his jaw level. It wasn't the neatest of hair cuts, and was a little wonky in places, but it did quite suit him.

"Much better than it did."

"Why do I recognise Bertha Jorkins' name?" Sirius asked me smoothing his moustache. I decided immediately that I had to get rid of my own. Sirius' facial hair made him look sort of like a pirate, or a rock star, and in comparison, mine made me look like a geography teacher trapped in the seventies, or maybe a photographer who specialises in photography. Just plain creepy.

"She went to school with us. You went out with her."

"Did I?"

"Yes, only once though, you said she was irritatingly stupid."

"Oh yes, I remember." Sirius said leaning back and crossing his legs. "If you gave her a sickle for her thoughts, you'd get 29 knuts in change. It's quite possible she just forgot to go back to work."

"Lost in Albania though...and she knew Ministry secrets."

"Mm, it does sound a little suspicious. They said in Azkaban that Voldemort wasn't dead. They used to say he was just biding his time. Building his strength back up."

"Yes, he tried to steal the philosopher's stone."

"What?"

I proceeded to tell Sirius how Harry had managed to stop Voldemort making himself immortal, and then how he had saved Ginny Weasley from death at the hands of a ghostly Tom Riddle.

"And, well, the rumours all say that he's in Albania somewhere." I concluded.

"We should ask around, Moody might have heard something, are you still in contact with him?"

"You cannot ask anyone anything, you are an escaped convict remember." Sirius hissed through his teeth and rolled his eyes. "And I don't speak to Moody much anymore. He retired recently though. He trained Andromeda's daughter to be an auror."

"Really? Little Nymphadora an auror...oh, that rhymed..." Sirius smirked a little. It was great to see him smile. "I'd like to see Andromeda again. The thought that _she_ thinks I'm just like the rest of the Blacks hurts more than anyone else thinking it."

"I understand. But I don't know how we would manage that. How would we convince her you are innocent?" I speculated, "and with Nymphadora being an auror...ha, it does sound funny when you say it..."

"I suppose you are right." Sirius said. "If only that bastard hadn't got away." I felt a flush of guilt, as Peter's escape was utterly my fault.

"Ah, Moony don't look like that! You couldn't help but transform." Sirius scolded me. It was nice to hear him call me Moony. Sirius bit his nails for a bit, lost in thought, then spoke to me again.

"I need a new wand." He said, "and, what happened to my stuff? Is any of it still around."

"Uh, not really. Most of it was seized by the Minsitry, and well...I sold the rest." I admitted. I had been living with Sirius in a grimy flat above a chip shop in London around the time he was arrested, consequently I was left with a heap of his possessions.

"What? You sold it? Even my Judas Priest records?"

"Especially those. I needed the money." I said, wincing slightly at the memory of how lonely the flat had felt after Sirius left.

"Ah, I guess it's not important now. I do need a new wand though." Sirius said. "Any ideas of how I can get one. You can't really go and get one for me."

"Um, I'm sure we could think of something."

"Also, it's Harry's birthday next month, can't remember which day exactly, but I would like to get him something, any ideas?"

"Oh yes...I should get him something too..."

"He's probably sick to death of quidditch-related gifts..."

"A book is too boring isn't it?"

"Yes Moony. A book is too boring."

"Hmm, this would be so much easier if I wasn't so bloody broke."

"You've spent your salary already?"

"On mortgage payments and wolfsbane. You know, when muggles cannot work due to illness or disability, their government gives them money to compensate. Why can't our government do that?"

"Because they are backward and draconian and blinded by racism, that's why."

I grinned at Padfoot, who grinned back. Merlin's stinking underpants, it was good to have him back.

Before you say anything, I _know_ there are 29 knuts to a sickle, so does Sirius, he was making a joke. Also, WIZARD MONEY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE! just thought I'd get that out there.


	20. A Risky Stunt

Just a note, in this chapter you find out what wand Remus has (JK never said) I've given him a nice big one (lol) and I chose the wood the same way JK chooses: by looking up the tree associated with Lupin's birthday (march 10th) according to celtic folklore. And I thought I'd share with you what the folklore said because I thought the tree was oddly apt for Lupin's character:

Birthday: March 10

Tree: Weeping Willow, the melancholy

Beautiful but full of melancholy (Lupin all over), attractive (hell yeah), very empathic, loves anything beautiful and tasteful (this just reminded me of the Oscar Wilde story, the young king), loves to travel, dreamer, restless, apricots, honest, can be influenced but is not easy to life with (I think Tonks would agree with this), demanding, good intuitive, suffers in love (like you would not believe) but sometimes finds an achoring partner.

Interesting right?

I also worked out what mine was:

Birthday: December 5

Tree: Hornbeam, the good taste

Of cool beauty, cares for its looks and condition, good taste, tends to egoism (very true of me). Makes life as comfortable as possible, leads reasonable, disciplined life, looks for kindness. An emotional partner, dreams of unusual lovers (ha! disturbingly true), is seldom happy with her feelings, mistrusts most people (also very true), very conscientious.

To work out what yours is just type in 'celtic birthday tree' into google.

Chapter 19

Sirius and I have pulled off some risky stunts in our time, but there were several important differences between those past misdemeanours and this one. First, the worst that could happen when were were at school was that we'd be expelled, and whilst at the time we all saw that as a fate worse than death, this time the consequence really was a fate worse than a death, a Dementor's kiss to be precise. Secondly, this time we weren't just schoolboys who didn't know any better. In fact the only similarity was that, just like always, I had said 'we shouldn't be doing this' so many times my tongue hurt. Sirius barked at me. Presumably that was his way of telling me everything was going to be fine. We got to Ollivander's and I pretend to tie Sirius' lead to a lamp post.

"Alright Suffles wait here..." I said loudly to the dog. Sirius barked again. Presumably to tell me not to look so shifty. "It's alright for you! You're not the one who has to curse the wandmaker!" I hissed at him. He just looked at me with that stupid doggy-grin then licked my hand. I rolled my eyes and wiped my hand on my robes as I walked into the shop. I looked around for a bit to check it was empty, then with a swish of my wand I locked the shop door and flipped the sign to 'back in five'. I wandered past the tall shelves ful of wand-boxes looking for Ollivander. Then, the sneaky wizard tapped my shoulder and I yelled out in surprise.

"Ah! Sorry Mr Ollivander. You surprised me."

"Yes..." Ollivander said regarding me with suspicion. "What brings you here Mr Lupin?"

"Um, I would like to buy a new wand."

"What is wrong with the one you have? It was a very fine wand when I sold it to you twenty years ago. Weeping willow, 14 inches, dragon heartstring sturdy but flexible."

"It's getting old..." I lied. I was very attached to my wand, it had served me well and I would never replace it just because it was old.

"I make my wands so that they last a lifetime." Ollivander said with a raised eyebrow.

"Truthfully, it is as good as ever, but I'm worried, with it's age, it is more susceptible to spell dammage."

"Do you do much duelling then?" Ollivander asked.

"No. But I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, and duelling is often part of the curriculum." I replied keeping my expression and tone passive.

"I thought you were sacked?" Ollivander asked. I felt my cheeks get slightly warm.

"I resigned. And I'm sure I will be working again soon." I said my teeth clenched only very slightly.

"Very well, follow me." Ollivander took me to a corner of the shop and started to pull some boxes from the shelves for me to try. While his back was turned I took my wand out and cast the complicated spell I had practised earlier.

"_Tempus silens inter vir._" I said, and Ollivander froze. He stood like a statue, his arm outstretched as he reached for another wand. I stepped closer to the unmoving old man and waved my hand in front of his face. He didn't react at all. I looked a little close and saw a fly frozen in the air a few millimetres from the mans face. As I had hoped, time had stopped in the small space where Ollivander was standing. I felt a flash of pride that I had managed to cast such a complex spell so effectively. Then a stab of guilt. Messing with time was utterly illegal, unless you had permission granted to you by the Minster himself. If anyone found out about this, I would be imprisoned for the rest of my life, maybe longer, and if they found out I was doing it to help escaped convict murderer Sirius Black, I would probably have my soul sucked out.

I took the dog whistle out of my pocket and gave it three short blasts. A few moments later a black dog trotted into the shop having climbed through a window I suspect. He sniffed at the frozen Ollivander then transformed into a man.

"Nice one Moony. Knew you could do it." He said waving his hand in front of Ollivander as I had done. Only Sirius's hand was getting dangerously close to that fly. If Sirius's hand slipped into the zone of space where time wasn't moving, his hand would be stuck their until I lifted the spell. I grabbed Sirius by the sleeve and pulled his arm away from Ollivander.

"Careful, Padfoot." I warned. "Now, hurry up and pick a wand." Sirius spent the next ten minutes opening boxes and waving wands around until he found one he liked. He swished the thing around and shot sparks at me.

"Okay, buy this one for me?" He said shoving the wand into my hand along with a pouch full of sickles.

"Right okay, you better get out of here." I said lifting my wand so I coud take the curse off of Ollivander. Snuffles trotted off and I sighed with relief. So far, nothing had gone wrong. I should never have thought it. There was a banging on the door.

"Mr Ollivander are you in there?" I heard someone say, I recognised the low voice immediately. I lifted the curse off Ollivander immediately. Ollivander blinked a few times and looked confused for a moment.

"Have you chosen one then?" He asked me, but before I could answer he heard the rapping at the door. "Excuse me a moment."

Ollivander walked towards the shop door that I had locked. I bit my lip and thought for a moment. There was really nothing to worry about. Ollivander had no idea any time had passed, I had every right to buy a second wand if I wanted to, I just hoped Ollivander didn't want me to test the wand in front of him: Sirius and I were not so similar that the same wand would suit the both of us. I suddenly had an idea. I arched an eyebrow in a moment of pride. I held the wand Sirius wanted and used my own to cast a spell over it so that it looked exactly like my wand then I slipped it into the loop on my belt. Then I gave my real wand a shake so that it resembled the wand Sirius wanted. Ollivander would probably be able to tell if he looked at the wand for longer than five minutes, but hopefully that wouldn't happen.

"Lupin? What are you doing here?" Snape said with the nastiest look that had ever been given by a human being since the dawn of time. I actually felt quite disturbed by the degree of hatred emanating from the man. Clearly he was still furious that the chance to see Sirius die had slipped through his fingers, and my involvement in the whole affair meant that I was as much to blame as Sirius, in Snape's eyes.

"I am buying a wand Severus." I said in as unthreatening a tone as I could manage.

"Whatever for? For one thing, I wasn't aware there was anything wrong with the one you have, and for another, surely you aren't doing much magic these days? Being unemployed and living in a muggle town. How long will it be before you give up magic altogether and try living life as a muggle?"

"There's nothing wrong living like a muggle Severus."

"Ah, so you've given up already?"

"You know, if you are going to badger me about buying a second wand, I might just do that to you. Why are you here?"

"I've not come to buy a second wand if that's what you were hoping."

"Well someone should buy a wand soon, otherwise I'll have to ask you to leave the shop." Ollivander interjected.

"Ah. Yes. I've chosen this one." I gave my wand a flick and it produced some little purple butterflies.

"Oh very nice. Suits you as well as your first one. Can I have a look at it?" Ollivander said.

"Uh, okay..." I held the wond out but, much to Ollivander's confusion, I didn't let him take it.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Snape burst out. "Buy the wand and get out of here Lupin. I'm fed up with the stench of you and I need to speak to Mr Ollivander."

Ollivander's eyes darted between Snape and I, clearly wondering whether there was something going on that he didn't know about. I gave Ollivander an apologetic smile and counted out the correct number of sickles. While Snape breathed hatred onto my neck I thought about how it was actually fortunate he was there acting as a distraction. Ollivander absentmindedly put my wand into a box and tied a piece of twine around it with his wand then took the sickles from me.

"Now run along wolf, and try not to leave hair on the carpet." Snape hissed. Ollivander's face became so contorted with befuddlement that he actually looked like a cartoon.

"Do not talk to me like that." I said. My mother would probably have told me to kick him in the balls, but my father's advice to always remain clam and civilised, even when reprimanding someone for being a fierce gobshite, won out and my tone was firm but polite.

"Or what? Don't think you can take the moral high ground here Lupin. Your past indiscretions most definitely rob you of that right." Snape warned. I didn't know whether he was talking about almost killing him or trying to help Sirius escape. I suppose it didn't matter, I couldn't deny either and the fact that I couldn't stop myself transforming nor the fact that Sirius was innocent, wouldn't absolve me in the eyes of Snape, or anyone else for that matter. I gave a sigh of defeat, thanked Ollivander and left. Sirius was waiting outside by the post I had pretended to tie him to. He gave a happy bark when he saw me. I took my wand out of the box Ollivander gave me, shook it so that it returned to its normal appearance, then took Sirius's new wand from my belt and put it in the box.

"Did you see Snape?" I said quietly to the dog as I holstered my wand. Sirius gave a growl to indicate that he had. I began to walk away from Ollivander's and back towards the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius walking merrily by my side. I think he was glad to be outside for a change.

"If there's a man more in need of a shag than that grumpy sod point him out." I said. Sirius barked and again and playfully bit the hem of my robes. I got his meaning and gave a sarcastic laugh. He was probably right though. While we were meandering down Diagon Alley, I saw a couple standing outside the cauldron shop trying to eat each other's faces and I felt disproportionately nauseated. The girl had bright red hair and perfect pale skin and I knew I wouldn't find the display quite so revolting if I were the man that got to kiss her. The couple pulled apart and the red-haired woman suddenly smiled and I immediately recognised her. The nausea vanished, but was replaced by an uncomfortable jolt of jealousy. Quick as a flash, I grabbed my wand, pointed it at the boy and muttered a hex under my breath.

"OW!" I heard the boy cry as he grabbed his backside.

"What?" Tonks asked him.

"I dunno. I think I got stung by a bee or something." He complained pulling up his robes and tugging at the waist of his jeans. "Jesus Christ!" He yelled as a long green-scaled tail fell out of his jeans.

"Oh my God!" Tonks exclaimed, though she looked more amused than worried. I smirked as I walked past them. I sneaked a glance back, but I saw that her eyes had followed me. She recognised me and smiled, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion as they flicked back to her boyfriend who was agonising over his new apendage.

"Honey. Calm down." She told him with gentle authority. "Let me deal with that." She took her wand out gave it an expertly swish and the tail was gone. Then she ran towards me. I gave her a pleasant smile that I thought successfully hid any guilt. Sirius gave a muffled yelp and pawed at my robes wondering who was speaking to me.

"Did you do that?" She inquired.

"I don't know what you are talking about." I said genially. Tonks regarded me with narrow eyes for a few seconds, then smiled. Her smile was so mischievous, and she was blushing a little, and those two traits served to make her absolutely beautiful. Her eyes were a glorious electric blue today, and they contrasted wonderfully with her hair; her lips were soft and full just like last time, but her nose was different again, it was slightly shorter and more upturned than at Christmas time. Maybe she couldn't decide how she wanted her nose to be, or maybe she was wearing it like this for her boyfriend. The wolf gave a very animalistic growl. It hated that she had boyfriend.

He had followed Tonks and was looking from her to me, waiting for an explanation. He was quite handsome I suppose, in an irritating kind of way.

"Remus, this is Tom Abbott. You probably taught his sister, Hannah." Tonks said.

"Yes. She cast particularly effective Pogrebin-repelling charms." I said as I smiled at shook Tom's hand. He smiled back and I felt a bit guilty for hexing him as he actually seemed very nice.

"You must be Professor Lupin." He said pleasantly, "Hannah was sorry to see you leave, she said you were an excellent teacher." Tom must have been a Hufflepuff like Hannah. Only a Hufflepuff would be kind enough to complement my teaching and completely ignore the fact that I was a werewolf. I felt a wave of desperate melancholy. Firstly, because I remembered how sorry I was not to be teaching anymore. And secondly, because it was utterly selfish and inappropriate for me to be jealous of Tonk's boyfriend. I should be happy that she is with someone so charming. If I were even a half-way decent person I would be glad she is happy, because she would never be that with me. I'm a monster who would only make her miserable. As I had no intentions of ever courting her myself, I had no right to be jealous.

Sirius barked, successfully capturing everyones attention. He let his tongue hang out of his mouth and smiled. Well, he would be smiling if dogs could smile.

"I didn't know you had a dog! I thought you had a cat." Tonks said bending down to pet Sirius' head.

"I gave Pancakes to my aunt and uncle when I got the job at Hogwarts. She was an old cat and I didn't think she'd enjoy being made to move away from Ireland."

"What's his name?" Tonks said as Sirius started to lick her hand.

"Snuffles." I replied. Tonks looked up at me with an eyebrow cocked.

"Snuffles?" She said with disbelief.

"It was the only thing he would respond to." I said with a shrug. "I think maybe he thinks he's a rabbit."

Sirius barked angrily at me.

"Easily offended, isn't he?" Said Tonks giving Sirius a last ear-ruffle. She stood up. "Every time I'm in Diagon Alley I seem to bump into you. Are you stalking me?" I laughed. It was slightly forced.

"Do you want to have coffee?" She added.

"I wouldn't want to intrude." I said nodding at Tom.

"Tom doesn't mind, do you?" Tonks said with an airy wave of her hand.

"Er..." Said Tom.

"It might be another six months before I see you." Said Tonks.

"I really shouldn't." I insisted. "I need to de-flea Snuffles." Suffles growled. Tonks looked genuinely disappointed, which made my insides ache. She smiled as we said goodbye, and I sulked the whole way back to Ireland. Almost as soon as Sirius and I stepped out of the fireplace in my living room, he turned back into a man and said, "was that Andromeda's daughter?"

"Yes." I replied.

"Merlin, she looks grown up."

"Yes." I said again taking off my boots and throwing myself into the armchair. Sirius stood in the middle of the living room pondering something.

"I wish I could have said hello properly."

"She would have arrested you, Sirius.

"I know! I said 'I wish'."

Sirius took off his own boots and sat down on the sofa. He pointed to the television set in the corner of the room.

"What's that?"

"It's a television. Muggles watch other muggles on it. They are for entertainment." I explained.

"Oh right." Sirius said. I could tell he wasn't really interested, he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he pounced on me with awkward questions.

"Why did you hex her boyfriend?" See?

"When I saw him sucking on her face like that, I thought he might have been a vampire." I said casually.

Sirius laughed, "Remus, you are a terrible lier. A, if you thought he was a vampire you'd do a garlic charm; B, a vampire wouldn't bite someone in the middle of a crowded street in the _day _and C, vampires bite people's necks not their mouths. And you can't say you didn't know all of that because you taught Defence."

I opened my mouth to give some ill-conceived excuse, when a green fire suddenly burst into life in my fireplace. Sirius transformed at once, just as Albus Dumbledore stepped out of my fireplace.

Um, apologies for the bad latin.


	21. Albus' Assignment

Okay, sorry this update has taken ages and that it's shorter than usual, but real life has been getting in the way recently. Damn real life.

Chapter 21

"Good evening Remus." He said, in that calm effortlessly genial voice of his. "And good evening Padfoot." Sirius hung his head shamefully.

"You really should not hide him here Remus." Dumbledore warned me, "you're being old friends will make you a prime suspect, and my vouching for you will only hold the ministry off your back for so long."

"Yes I know," I said as Sirius transformed, "they already searched my house; but it was only for a few days-"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Sirius interjected and Dumbledore turned his attention form me to him, "for Singapore."

"Singapore?" Questioned Dumbledore, "wise choice."

"Thank you, sir." Said Sirius with a grin. Dumbledore smiled back in the manner of someone who has just spotted his favourite grandson.

"You do not need to call me Sir Sirius, you may call me Albus now."

"Yes...but you know how it is, when you get used to calling someone something..." Sirius began.

"Would you like a tea or a coffee Albus?" I asked Dumbledore, it felt weird and harrowing not to call him headmaster.

"A coffee would be nice." Dumbledore said as he began to inspect my home. I watched the old man for a few seconds then walked to the kitchen, inviting him to follow me. Soon all three of us were sat at my little kitchen table with coffee and Dumbledore explained his reason for being here.

"I have come to ask you a favour Remus, quite a big one." He said with a sombre expression. I glanced to Sirius who shrugged at me. I felt distinctly nervous, Dumbledore used to ask favours from me when I was in the order and they were never fun. I looked back to Dumbledore and waited for him to explain.

"You may have heard that Bertha Jorkins has been reported missing."

"Yes, I did read that." I replied. "In Albania." I added meaningfully.

"Exactly, where Voldemort is rumoured to be hiding. Bertha worked for the Magical Games and Sports Division, and as I suspect you may have already surmised there are not many secrets in the Magical Games and Sports Division that Voldemort would be interested in. But there is one.

This year the Triwizard Tournament will take place at Hogwarts."

My eyebrows bounced upwards and Sirius let out a whistle of surprise, and perhaps excitement on the part of Harry: the Triwizard Tournament was after all a very exciting event, and if Beauxbatons was competing like last time then there would be plenty of new beautiful potential girlfriends. (Sadly it wasn't experience that taught me this: the last Triwizard Tournament took place before I started school, and even if it har occured during my time at Hogwarts, I would never had had a chance with any of those pretty french girls.)

_Focus Lupin!_

"Which will means there will be many new faces at Hogwarts this year,"

"And that's and ideal circumstance for someone who wants to infiltrate the castle." I finished.

"To get to Harry." Said Sirius a protective growl in his voice.

"That is my worry yes." Dumbledore confirmed.

"But Voldemort is powerless, he wouldn't be able to infiltrate the castle...not without help at least." I said.

"I think he may be receiving help."

"From Wormtail." Sirius said coldly, I looked at him. "Where else would Peter go?" He added by way of an explanation.

"Even if Peter has gone to Voldemort, he doesn't have the skill to organise anything extravagant."

"Don't underestimate him Remus." Dumbledore warned. "Besides, there has been more attacks on muggles recently but wizards calling themselves Death Eaters, so perhaps Wormtail isn't the only wizard helping Voldemort."

"Will you cancel the tournament?" Sirius asked.

"No. That would raise too many questions. Besides, I don't think it would be wise to betray our worries to Voldemort by cancelling the tournament."

"What's your plan then?" Asked Sirius.

"The problem at the moment is I do not have enough information to even hypothesise what Voldemort might try."

There was a definite sinking in my stomach.

"So what I would like is for you, Remus, to go to Europe to try and find out as much as you can." I took a deep breath but didn't commit myself to anything just yet. Sirius was looking at me, his mouth tightly closed and a strange expression in his eyes.

"I have an agent in Germany who has been monitoring a group of Death Eaters living in the forrest near the border between Germany and Poland. He will help you. I want you to observe the Death Eaters and gather as much information on their movement as you can, this might involve disguising yourself to question Death Eaters. I will give you a more detailed briefing if you choose to do this for me." I glanced at Sirius again, whose mouth was open slightly and whose eyebrows were furrowed perhaps with confusion, but perhaps with something else. I sighed and looked around my kitchen. I looked at the build up of dirty dishes in the sink. The bolognese from yesterday was drying on the pasta bowels. The tap dripped onto the plate with a plink. I needed to fix that tap. I needed to wash the plates. My mother would have clipped me round the ear for letting it build up like that. She wasn't the most organised woman in the would, nor the tidiest, but her house was always clean. Before she retired she was a nurse, clever enough to be a doctor of course, but not rich or fortunate enough, nor the right gender or from social background to get into medical school.

"What do you say Remus?" Dumbledore asked, pulling me out of my daydream.

"Why do you think Voldemort is planning his return? Why now?"

"Voldemort will try to regain power as soon as he can. I want to know whether that time is now. With Wormtail's escape I fear it might be." Dumbledore said.

"Come on Remus, what are you waiting for?" Sirius barked with a hint of venom that I didn't understand. I gave Sirius a brotherly glare.

"I am asking a lot." Dumbledore said to Sirius. "I do not know how long this mission will take, it will prevent Remus from looking for work -" Dumbledore turned back to me,

"And I cannot pay you for this work." He added with apology in his eyes, "but I will provide you with money enough to cover any expenses incurred. And," he continued to both of us, "it will be dangerous."

"Why me?" I asked. Dumbledore gave me a small smile, I think he knew I had already agreed to his request. I had never said no Dumbledore before, and I couldn't now: I trusted him, and if he needed me to do this, then it was for the greater good and therefore necessary.

"Of everyone free and able, you are the one I trust the most." He said. I didn't react, mostly because I didn't know how to. "What's more, you and Sirius are some of the best duellers I know, which sadly will be a useful quality for this mission. Also..." Dumbledore's blue eyes met mine. There was sympathy in there along with the same look of apology.

"The agent in Germany tells me that the Death Eaters are consorting the a court of vampires living in the area, and, well, dark creatures are your area of expertise." I rubbed my left eyebrow.

"Alright. Yes. I'll do it." I said. Dumbledore gave a weak smile then nodded.

"Thank you Remus, I knew I could count on you." The old man said. "I shall return in a few days to brief you more thoroughly."

Dumbledore exchanged a few words privately with Sirius before he left, and once he had gone Sirius turned to me like an angry spouse.

"What? What have I done?" I asked as he stomped to the living room and threw himself angrily into the armchair facing the fireplace. Sirius said nothing, he just glared at the fire. I sighed: he still had a temperament of a teenager apparently. I walked to the desk by the window, casually rummaged through the books and papers and started to plan what I would need to take to Germany while I let Sirius steam for a bit.

"What is your issue with doing things for Dumbledore?" Sirius asked eventually in a would-be calm tone of voice.

"I don't have any issue doing things for Dumbledore." I replied patiently, folding the essay on whether magical time travel has put an end to Fatalism I had been writing in half, I doubted I would ever have time to finish it now.

"Yes you do. You always have. Every time he asks you to do something you hesitate, you try and argue your way out of it." Sirius spat back. I groaned, I loved him but sometimes the bastard really tested my patience.

"I just take these things seriously!" I told him angrily. Shifting my eyes from the desk to the back of his head.

"If it were me, I wouldn't think twice."

"But it's _not_ you, Sirius." I said walking around the back of the chair so I could look at his face. His jealous eyes glanced at me briefly then looked away. I don't think he was actually angry at me. He was just restless.

"I do not enjoy doing these things. I have to think about them."

"I don't enjoy them either."

"You do not find it as disagreeable as I do. I am not as brave as you. I don't like fighting."

"I do not like it either Remus! But it doesn't matter, because I know it's the right thing. If something is necessary I do not hesitate. And it's just unfair that you, who thinks more than he acts, pacifist to a fault -

"Pacifism is never a _fault_ Sirius." I interrupted, "And anyway, I'm not."

"Don't interrupt me!" Sirius exclaimed jabbing his finger in my direction. "It is unfair that you are trusted by Dumbledore to take on these missions while I – the _better_ man for the job – is stuck in hiding. _I_ should be doing this, not you."

"If you could do it instead of me I would gladly step aside."

"But the point is I can't! I can't help at all." Sirius almost shouted thumping the arm fo the chair with his fist. "I am still in prison!"

"Calm down." I told him with impatient disdain. Had anyone else spoken to him like I just had he probably would have hit them, but it was me, so instead he scowled at me for a few minutes then gave a heavy defeated sigh and gazed out of the window. I could understand his jealously. It was not that he desired danger or violence: Sirius had always been a risk-taker, an adventurer, but he was essentially peaceful; it was rather that he had felt, and was still feeling, the repression and adversity that Voldemort and his followers had created more acutely than most right now and would rather fight against it than sit and suffer. I sighed as well and sat down in the sofa.

"I'm sorry-" I began, but Sirius shrugged and shook his head. He put his hadn't to his mouth and ran his first two fingers across his lips. He looked very lonely. I grit my teeth and tried to think of something to say. This was James' area. Sirius and I...well, we were good friends, but he was not nearly as close to me as he was with James. In fact, I had probably shared more with him over the last few days than ever before in the time we had known each other. I didn't know how to comfort him, he was the one that usually comforted me.

"When are you leaving?" I asked. He looked back at me, paused for a moment then smiled. "What?" I said, confused by the look on his face.

"Gonna miss me then?" He said, with a tired grin. I laughed.

"Of course." I admitted blushing furiously. Sirius laughed at me. I didn't mind. I was just so grateful to have him back that I didn't care that I sounded pathetic. With a pang I remembered that I probably wouldn't see him again for weeks, maybe months; instead I would be completely alone in a foreign country spying on Death Eaters.

"I probably wont be able to write." I said.

"I wouldn't have thought so." Agreed Sirius.

"To you or to Harry. Will you give him my best?"

"I will when I can. I don't know how often I'll be able to write either, I can't keep an owl, and I can't exactly stroll into a post office." Sirius said, looking every bit as resentful and regretful as me. I gave a heavy sigh and leant back into the sofa. Suddenly the war wasn't over anymore, suddenly life was more difficult – and it wasn't even easy to be begin with. Maybe Snape had been right, maybe I should just give up magic and go live life as a muggle. Though I'd still be werewolf. In fact, Muggles would be even less understanding when it came to my condition, as they don't even believe it exists.

"I'll leave in the morning probably. I've found somewhere I can apparate to." Sirius told me quietly. There was a long uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry I got a bit..." Sirius began.

"Don't worry about it." I said interrupting him. "I understand."

"Yes, I suspect you do." Sirius agreed looking thoughtfully back at the fireplace. "Both of use have had it tough, and neither of us have deserved it I don't think."

"I suppose. Though I wasn't in prison...it's not the same."

"We were both separated from all of our friends, we were both isolated – that's the salient fact, that's the thing that hurts the most." Sirius said. Suddenly he seemed so much older than I last saw him. "What I don't understand is how you remain so... accepting. I mean, it is hardly fair that either of us should have suffered what we have, but where I want to bloody murder everyone who is responsible, you...just..." Sirius broke off, unable to find the appropriate word.

"I'm not really any different." I admitted feeling a flush of guilt. "I mean...I was the same with Peter. I was completely ready to kill him. I was prepared to kill someone in cold blood. How can I live with that? I am really no different to the beast I transform into. I am capable of doing the same horrible things."

"I wanted to kill him too and I'm not a werewolf." Sirius said. "He betrayed us, he killed James and Lily. Wanting to kill Peter doesn't make you less human. In fact, it probably makes you more human. Humans make mistakes, humans are vulnerable to being controlled by their emotions.

Anyway, you deal with this sort of feeling much better than I do. You are still so against violence usually, whereas if I feel an injustice has been done to me, I want to reap my bloody revenge and I don't care whether it's right or wrong. That's why I'm jealous of you doing work for Dumbledore. It's not because I want to do what's right. It's because I want revenge."

"I think, even though, you might say that, when it's the time to act, you'll still do what is right, not matter what your feelings might be. When it comes down to it, your morals always guide you correctly. "

"You think so?" Sirius asked me, looking genuinely quite insecure which wasn't like the man I knew.

"I know so." I replied with a comforting smile.


	22. Leohnard

SO sorry this update has taken so long. I'm back at Uni now so I wont be updating quite as frequently, but I am fond of this story and have some great ideas for later chapters, especially lots of yummy Tonks and Lupin stuff, so updates WILL happen, just less frequently.

Chapter 22

I lay on my belly on the grass as evening descended with a pair of binoculars on my face.

"No movement." I told Faustus, the agent Dumbledore had sent me to meet.

"Makes a change." He replied sarcastically. We had been at this reconnaissance work for three weeks now and hadn't seen very much at all. Occasionally a Death Eater would arrive at the dilapidated old farmhouse they were using as a hideout with some milk and bread, but that was the extent of the activity we had seen. The Death Eaters clearly didn't know they were being watched as they did not wear masks, I did not recognise any of them though. I took photographs and made notes and wondered what I was supposed to achieve. Perhaps if nothing happened between now and the next time Dumbledore saw me he would let me go home. I wasn't sure when that would be, Faustus told me that Dumbledore's visits were almost always unannounced.

Jeremy Faustus was a retired Swedish auror, and seemed to hate everything about his line of work. Hardly a second went by when he didn't grumble about how he would rather be sitting somewhere in the south of France with a glass of wine and a book. He also seemed to think that the task Dumbledore had set him was a complete waste of time, but he was an old friend of Dumbledore and wouldn't say no to a request from him. (I didn't question Faustus for more details on this matter, as Dumbledore seems to have so many friends willing to risk their lives for him, eventually you just take it for granted.) Faustus lived in a tiny cottage in the middle of the forrest about ten miles from a muggle town called Radeberg. When he wasn't spying on Death Eaters he wiled away his time drinking bitter and polishing his disturbingly large collection of garden gnomes. But, despite his strangeness, he was a nice enough fellow.

He had several interesting theories as to what the Death Eaters were doing in Germany. One theory was that they were planning to arrange some sort of massive Death Eater reunion party in Poland, another was that they wanted to kidnap all the German Kelpies and use them to try and control the English Channel. However, not all his theories were insane; he did have one relatively sensible theory: there was a court of vampires living in the Dresden area that apparently were beyond the control of the German wizarding government, and Faustus reckoned the Death Eaters were trying to convince the leader of this court to join them. In wartime, recruiting vampires was not unusual behaviour for Death Eaters; they were almost never successful as vampires (unlike a lot of werewolves) have no desire to integrate themselves into the wizarding world, and have powers of their own that are substantial enough for them not to be susceptible to bribery. However, the war was allegedly over, so why were the Death Eaters again trying to recruit vampires? It could only mean that they had confidence enough to start planning new acts of terrorism. I hoped to God that their newfound confidence had nothing to do with Voldemort returning, but my gut told me my hopes would not be realised. However, I needed more than gut-feelings, I needed evidence. In my mind there were only two ways to get it, as observation was getting us nowhere. One way was to try and get the information out of one of the Death Eaters. Now, these Death Eaters were smart, so accidentally-on-purpose meeting one of them in the pub and slipping some veriteserum into their drink wasn't going to work. Faustus reckoned they had been trained to resist the imperius curse, and I wasn't going to torture anyone. Option two, was to question the vampires.

Option two wasn't at all an attractive option to be certain. But I didn't reject it straight away. Over the next two weeks Faustus and I paused our observations of the Death Eaters and set about gathering information on the court of vampires. We learnt that the Death Eaters were indeed trying to recruit them, but had not been successful, a fact made evident by the discovery of a dead Death Eater with tell-tale bite marks tied to a tree to warn the Death Eaters the vampires were not in the mood to be helpful. We also learnt through conversations in pubs, scrutiny of local newspapers, and gathering of hearsay, that the court of vampires was allegedly led by a vampire called Leohnard.

As soon as I discovered the name, option two became a thousand times less appealing. Leohnard was quite notorious in the wizarding world. Even by vampires' own standards, Leohnard was merciless, depraved and infinitely blood-thirsty. Studying the Dark Arts had taught me enough about Leohnard's history to know that if he ever managed to get enough followers, he would be as much of a threat to the world as Voldemort himself. According to _An Age of Blood: A Historial Study of Vampire Activity in Europe, _Leohnard was probably made a vampire sometime in the eighteenth century, but he didn't become well known until the first muggle world war, during which he reaped havoc on board American submarines. After the war he lived in Paris and spent the next twenty years building a court and plotting a vampire rebellion. Sources tell us that by this time he had probably killed over a thousand people. He was caught by vampire hunters in 1939, just as the second muggle world war began. I remember reading transcripts from the interviews with Leohnard and feeling quite disgusted. The vampire hunters questioned him about his various exploits and the way he spoke proudly of the acts of violence he had committed made my stomach churn. He was sentenced to death by the vampire hunters, but with the second world war acting as a distractor Leohnard managed to escape. During the war he killed almost as many people as Auschwitz. He was captured again sometime in the 60s but excaped again, and now he was trying to build a new court. Apparently taking over Europe was still his aim.

Another important thing to know about Leohnard is that he was more intelligent and forward thinking than most vampires. Real vampires are quite unlike those one reads about in muggle books. Vampires have no conscience to speak of, they are completely controlled by the pleasure they feel when they drink human blood, however, their reasoning abilities are far inferior to that of humans. This inability to understand the consequences of their actions is what allows wizards and vampire hunters to keep vampires in check and what allows vampires and humans to coexist. Many courts of vampires would have died having exhausted their food supply had wizards not stepped in and helped them. The introduction of the Hawthorne potion, named after the wizard who invented it, is a good illustration of how the intervention of wizards allowed vampires and humans to live together. In general, human beings have to loose two litres of blood before they die and vampire's stomachs are no bigger than humans', so it is uncommon (thought not unheard of) for a human to die from the vampire bite itself; what kills the victim is continued blood loss _after_ the vampire has moved on. When a vampire bites a human they inject a poison which is a potent anticoagulant and it is this that causes the vampire's victim to bleed to death. One dose of the Hawthorne potion deactivates the glands in a vampire that produce the poison. It is law in most countries for vampires to be treated with this poison, and most vampires obey this law as it considerably reduces the amount of vampire-caused fatalities and vampires have learnt that killing off all of their prey in one week is not advantageous to their survival. Since the introduction of this law, while incidences of vampire attacks are still quite common in certain areas, these attacks very rarely lead to death; in fact I have read of one Russian gentleman who has been bitten eight times and still not died, in fact, if I recall correctly, he quite enjoyed being bitten. I believe that being bitten by a vampire is counterintuitively quite a pleasurable experience while it lasts. Afterwards of course the thought 'Oh God oh God I'm going to die!' is probably the most prominent in your mind, but while the vampire is biting you, I've heard it is quite pleasant. Of course, I will never be able to have this experience because vampires do not bite werewolves.

However, the point I wanted to make, before I got side tracked, is that Leohnard seems not to suffer from this diminished reasoning ability. Also, he has been known to suck people dry, as it were. Naturally therefore, I had no desire to question him about what the Death Eaters were up to. I did discuss the idea with Faustus however.

"It's a bad idea Lupin." Was his conclusion. "You can't bargin with him because you don't have anything that he would want. And, although I'll admit your magical powers are impressive, they don't compare to his. He is a legilimens, but not only that, he can put thoughts into your head as well as read the ones already there. How skilled are you at occulmency?"

"I'm adequate, but not exceptional." I replied scratching at my week-old stubble; as a result of living in a wooden cottage in the woods with Faustus who only had a bath once a week, I had become a bit lac about my personal appear.

"Adequate would not be good enough to escape the mental torture he can inflict upon you." Fautsus said taking a swig from the bottle of Radeberger beer he had in his hand. "That is of course if he doesn't just kill you straight off for fun."

"Would my being a werewolf make any difference?"

"Only if you were transformed. As a man you are as weak as any other human. Whats more, vampires have the same negative opinion of werewolves as a lot of wizards do."

"What if I was transformed?" I asked. My voice was still calm and quiet but my heart had started to race as a rather foul idea formed in my mind.

"What do you mean?" Faustus said looking at me with a twinge of fear. Faustus was accepting of my lycanthropy – much more accepting than most – I assumed this was partly because he was an auror and had had more experience with werewolves than most, and party because he was a bit mad; however, quite understandably, Fautus still found my wolf-form frightening.

"Well, surely as a wolf, I would be protected from Leohnard's legilimenaic magic, and I would be much more threatening. I would require wolfsbane though, to keep my own mind. Otherwise I'd just be a beast..."

"You would still be out-numbered. And I don't think you really have it in you to threaten someone for information."

"Well, it wouldn't be me doing the threatening. It would be the wolf." I observed. Faustus pulled a face.

"Not sure I like this side of you Remus." Faustus said.

"I wouldn't do anything. It would be a facade. But a convincing one." I defended.

"But, like I said, you would be outnumbered."

"We would have to get him on his own."

"How? And if we are seriously thinking about this, why can we not use this strategy on the Death Eaters themselves?"

"The Death Eaters would not believe that a werewolf could have a rational mind. They would just see me as a monster, become frantic with fear and would not tell me anything. A vampire would understand that even though I cannot talk, I can understand speech perfectly well. This is especially true of a vampire as intelligent as Leohnard."

"But how would we arrange a private tete-a-tete between the werewolf and the vampire?" Faustus said with a slightly hysterical smile.

"Now, I'm out of ideas..." I admitted with a sigh.


	23. The Marauders' Ruin

Sorry about the typos guys, I am quite notorious for my typo-problems. I actually make typos when I handwrite as well! What's more (you may have noticed) I sometimes just write/type completely the wrong word. Perhaps I have a very mind form of dygraphia, who knows…

OMG I WROTE 'MIND'! I meant 'mild'!

But I digress. I'll try and be more careful. Also, as a point of information, Leohnard is actually a character from another story I have written, one that is not a fanfic. And it is pronounced leo-nard, like leonardo without the 'o', hence the silent 'h', I'm not just spelling leonhard incorrectly.

Chapter 23

At half past eleven on the 25th of August, the night of the Quidditch World Cup Final, I sat alone on a crumbling wall of a ruined house in Northern Ireland. The old ruin was not far from my home. I used to play here as a child. The house was quite hard to find if you didn't already know about it. It was probably once a woodsman's cottage, but now it was little more than three and a half crumbling stone walls covered with ivy with Yew trees growing through it. Of course I couldn't see most of it right now, as I only had one enchanted lantern providing light. In fact I could hardly see beyond four yards. I yawned and pulled my silver pocket watch from my pocket.

"Is he on his way?" I asked the watch. The face of it went white and the word 'yes' appeared. I replaced the watch and listened hard for the faint pop of an apparition or the crunch of footsteps on the forrest floor. But I heard nothing apart from the light breeze caressing the trees, making their leaf-filled branches sway and rustle. I gave an uneasy sigh. It was not far from this spot that I was bitten. For a long time I refused to venture near the old ruin after that night. Everything reminded me of how horrible it had been. I was seven when it happened.

_I was sitting in the tree my father and I were going to build a tree house in. The tree was not very deep into the woods so, although I couldn't see her, I could hear when my mother moving flower pots around in the cow shed. _

_ "Remus! Time to come in now!" I head her call. "Your dad's probably got dinner ready already." _

_ "I'm coming!" I called back, but I wanted to stay as the sun was setting and I had a good view of it from in the tree. I was particularly fond of winter skies, the cold seemed to make the colours that much more vibrant. Tonight the setting sun was a very bloody red. I thought about how I should tell ma about how good the view was from here, so that maybe she could paint it. I wanted to paint it too, but it was too beautiful, I would only ruin it. I wished I were better at painting. Ma said I would be better than her one day, but I think she was just saying that. I continued day dreaming from the tree until the sun had completely set. I heard my mother shout for me again. Although the sun had set the woods were still not dark. The blueish moonlight illuminated the forrest making every tree look like it was made of silver. I looked up at the moon. As it was still early in the evening, it hung low and large in the sky. For the last time, I thought the moon was beautiful. _

_ "I'm coming ma!" I shouted and I took a step in the direction of the house. Then I froze. I had heard a growl somewhere behind me. I turned my head sharply as my heart immediately began to thunder in my chest and every muscle in my young body tensed with fear. My eyes darted amongst the moonlit trees but I could see nothing. It was probably my imagination, but I decided to run back to the house anyway. _

_ I began to run but then – there was a roar behind me and the sound of something massive jumping out from behind the trees and landing heavily on the ground. I couldn't help it I slowed and looked behind me. I was so frightened by what I saw that I couldn't even make a sound. It was gigantic, with thick dark brown furr all over its body, huge yellow claws and teeth that shone with saliva. It looked like a wolf, but was far too big to be one. It stepped towards me and in my desperation to get away I slipped on the damp leaves that carpeted the forrest floor. I fell but quickly scrambled back to my feet and turned my eyes back to the beast that had gotten even closer. If I ran it would chase me. And I could never outrun it. Not knowing that it was an intelligent creature who had it in mind to bite me, I thought perhaps if I stood very still, it would loose interest in me and go away. I had used that strategy against a badger once. But the beat rose up onto its hind legs, and towered over me. My fear was so intense that I stopped believing for a moment that I was really awake. The beast swiped its claws at me. They scraped across my chest ripping apart my coat. They caught in the fabric of my clothes and the beast picked me up. I screamed and the beast threw me into the forrest. I landed and began to run. _

_ I do not know how long the chase lasted or in what direction I ran. I have no memory of the chase whatsoever. The next thing I remember is lying on my back with one paw of the monster crushing my chest. The weight was so great that I sank into the soft muddy ground. I looked up at the monster, his huge eyes glowing red and saliva dripping from his open mouth onto my face. I couldn't breathe so I couldn't scream. Then, as if in slow motion, the monster bent its head towards me. I thought I was going to die then. I was certain of it. I cried with shock. How could I die now? How could this be real? So great was fear and shock and disbelief that what was happening was real, that when the werewolf bit me I didn't feel any pain. I felt the monster's mouth capture my shoulder between its jaws. I felt it push its teeth through my clothes then through my flesh. I felt blood dribbling across my chest underneath my shirt from the wounds it was creating. I felt the warmth of it and how wet it was. I felt the large teeth push all the way through my muscles and veins until it reached the bones. Then I felt the the werewolf's giant teeth force their way between my shoulder bones pushing them apart. I remember this feeling with absolute clarity, but I do not remember this sensation being at all painful. I do not remember the werewolf letting me go as I think I passed out before it had finished biting me. When I woke up, I was in St Mungo's. _

I shuddered slightly at the memory and felt the shoulder Greyback had bitten with my opposite hand. My movement of that arm was still limited. Eventually I got over my fear of the woods. I figured there was nothing to be afraid of now that the worst had already happened. And when the marauders came to visit me in the summer, I brought them to the old ruin and we talked and played quidditch there until I ceased to associate the place with being bitten at all. It was partly because the marauder's used to hang out at the old ruin that I was there now. Sirius had written to me on monday asking to meet me here. It was risky I know, but he had seemed quite anxious to talk to me in his letter:

_Dear Moony, _

_Hope the moon last week wasn't too tough. Trouble at t'mill I'm afraid. I don't know what you've heard, but news from home is not good. The sprog's old war wound has been playing up and I hardly know what to say to him. To me that seems like incorrigible proof that we ought to fear the worst. Beardy's got Mad-eye helping out; though I don't know whether that's good or bad – good because I'd trust him with my life, and therefore I trust him with the sprog, however, it can only mean Beardy's worried, and if Beardy's worried I am. I would prefer to talk properly, though I know this might be difficult for you – Heaven know's it's damn near impossible for me. Could we meet at the Marauder's ruin? Thursday night? _

_Best, Padfoot. _

By 'sprog' I presume Sirius meant Harry, and 'war wound' meant his scar. Cursed scars have no 'typical behaviour'. How a cursed scar behaves depends not only on what sort of curse caused it, but also on who the scar belongs to and which wizard cast the curse. What's more Harry's curse was completely unique, so there was no precedent to guide us. But to me, the only way Harry's scar could be hurting is if Voldemort was gaining power. Sirius apparently thought the same, judging from his letter. The information I had gained from my observation of the Death Eaters wasn't encouraging either.

Fed up with just watching the Death Eaters from the hill, Faustus and I decided to break into their hideout when we thought it was empty and bug the place. So, earlier today, we watched from our usual spot disguised with disillusionment charms and waited for signs that their shack was empty. It was a difficult thing to judge, but after we had not seen any shadows move past the windows for an hour, we decided to make out move. We skided down the grassy hill that separated us from the house and, with our wands ready, we cautiously approached what seemed to be the front door. I tried to look at Faustus, but obviously with his dillusionment charm all I saw was the countryside behind him, blurred slightly where the edges of his body were. I saw the almost-invisible figure move slightly and assumed Faustus was nodding. So I knocked on the front door. I knocked forcefully so there was no doubting, if someone were inside, they would have heard. Then the two of us waited a few moments. No-one came to the door so either there was no-one there, or they were waiting inside to ambush us. Faustus moved away from the door slightly and pointed his wand towards it ready to magically open it. While I pointed my wand at the door ready to curse anyone who was behind it. Faustus blasted open the door with a spell and I readied myself for a duel, but there was no-one there.

Faustus and I entered the building. I cast a "_Homenum Revelio_" and nothing happened. So we set about searching the house and planting our bugs. The house looked just as you would expect a house full of squatting Death Eaters to look like. It was dirty and disorganised, with racist graffii on the walls and furniture. There were several desks in the main room of the house and I spent some time looking at the things piled on top of them and inside the drawers. There were spell books and novels of various languages, which told me that the Death Eaters there were from different corners of Europe and expected to be here for some time. I also found maps of the area marking out territories controlled by vampires as well as reference books on vampiric practices, which confirmed Faustus' and my suspicions that recruiting Leohnard's court were why the Death Eaters were here. Most interesting however were letters the Death Eaters had received from agents in Britain and Albania. Some of the letters were writing in Albanian so Faustus had to do a nifty translation charm before we could read them. I took photographs of the letters as almost all of them were indubitably incriminating, though of course the unofficial espionage I was engaged in was also illegal, hence it was unlikely we could use this evidence against the Death Eaters in question.

There were eight men squatting in the old building, judging by the number of made-up beds, and using the letters we discovered the identities of each of them. I didn't recognise most of the names, so I reasoned that none of them were part of Voldemort's inner circle. Two names I did recognise, however, were Amycus and Alecto Carrow. When I was with the Order we were fairly certain that these two were Death Eaters, not among the most barbaric and not terribly high up in Death Eater standing, but dangerous nonetheless. Especially interesting was that Walden Macnair of the committee of the disposal of dangerous creatures was a correspondent of the Carrows. It seemed that the Carrows had gathered the group of European Death Eaters and were acting under Macnair's orders! I had met Walden Macnair or twice. He was an unpleasant man, and in all honesty I was not surprised to find him involved in illegal activity. During the first war, Macnair was suspected to be a Death Eater, but denied all accusations made against him. Now it seemed likely that denial was false. But, I couldn't quite understand _why_ Macnair wanted the Carrows to recruit vampires. Was Macnair acting on Voldemort's orders? If so, why did Voldemort want Leohnard's help? Could Leohnard perhaps help Voldemort regain his power? Hopefully by listening in on the Death Eater's conversations we would gain insight into the answers to these questions. If that didn't work though, questioning Leohnard himself was still a possibility, though not a happy one: my plan of threatening him for the information was still as shady as it was the other day. However, one thing seemed certain: the only reason Macnair would risk his well-paid job at the ministry was it Voldemort was planning his return. It was with a bitter tightening of my heart that I made this deduction: the thought of Voldemort returning filled me with a sickening dread; but with each new piece of information we discovered that conclusion seemed more and more inevitable. And now with Harry's scar hurting, Voldemort's return seemed certain.

At last I heard the pop of an apparition. I looked to my right and saw the inexplicably handsome convict Sirius Black. Seriously, I couldn't understand how he managed it: he had put some weight back on, got a proper hair cut _and_ a tan; he was on the run but looked more handsome than ever. The bastard. He grinned when he saw me and I rolled my eyes.


	24. Godfather Envy and Motherly Love

No reviews guys? :( Well I guess I deserve it. I haven't been updating very frequently. What's more it's got a bit rubbish. I will redeem myself!

Long one today.

Chapter 24

"How are you Moony?" Sirius asked as he gave me a hug.

"I'm alright." I replied. "But I need to ask you a security question." I added seriously. Sirius laughed.

"Really? It that necessary?" He asked. I made a noise that was almost 'well, yes'.

"Ok, shoot." Sirius said.

"Why did James Potter dump his first girlfriend Marjorie Watkins?"

"'Cos I said she had hairy arms!" Sirius replied at once with an impish grin. I laughed.

"Alright, you passed."

"I better ask you one now," Sirius said gazing at the trees as he tried to come up with a good question, suddenly he looked at me with the evilest grin, one that showed every single one of his pearly white teeth,"what did I catch you and that Janine girl doing that time in the living room?" he asked. My stomach twisted and I felt my face turn puce with embarrassment. I glared at Sirius.

"That's a stupid security question." I said.

"Just answer it Moony!" Sirius said laughing.

"We were..." I began awkwardly while Sirius laughed at me. "We were playing the jungle game." Sirius's bark-like laugh reverberated through the forrest and I shuddered at the memory that I had tried very hard to block from my mind.

"The jungle game! Is that what you called it!" Sirius said laughing at me.

"That was a stupid question." I said pointing my finger at the jackal.

"Perhaps, but it's so damn funny." Sirius said wiping tears from his eyes. "I needed a laugh."

"I'm glad it was at my expense." I said sarcastically. Sirius's laughed died away gradually. "How are you then? You've risked a lot coming here."

"Well, I'm worried." Sirius said the smile leaving his face. He ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the wall. I conjured another lantern and sat down next to him. With his brow furrowed with anxiety all the lines around his eyes suddenly became apparent.

"What have you found out?" Sirius demanded of me.

"Not a great deal if I'm honest." I replied with a sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the magically shrunk thermos of coffee that I had brought.

"What is that?" Sirius asked pointing at the finger-sized thermos.

"Coffee." I answered as I I enlarged it. I unscrewed the two cups and poured some coffee while Sirius stared at me with vague disbelief.

"We arrange a secret rendezvous, to discuss Voldemort and the possibility that my godson's life is in danger, and you bring coffee?" He said with his eyes narrowed – it was hard to tell whether he was amused or annoyed. I shrugged.

"It will hardly be a useful discussion if I fall asleep now would it?" I said, offering Sirius some coffee. Sirius looked away from me, apparently hiding his smile. I grinned and he took the coffee. I poured myself some and began to relay to Sirius everything I had learnt over the last few weeks.

"Macnair?" Sirius said when I got to recounting today's events.

"Yes." I confirmed.

"I can't say I'm surprised, he's a git." Sirius stated. "Do you think he's working for Voldemort?"

"I don't know. If he is I don't know what he's planning. I can't see how the vampires are linked."

"Maybe they know how a wizard might regain his powers." Sirius suggested.

"Yes, I had that thought. But, still what's the link to Hogwarts? Dumbledore said he was worried someone might infiltrate Hogwarts. I mean, if he's hired Mad-eye..."

"If Voldemort regains his power, he might invade Hogwarts himself."

"One ex-auror won't keep him out. If Dumbledore was afraid of _that_ I think he'd take bigger steps. No, the facts just don't add up, we don't know enough."

"You're right about that." Sirius said with an angry groan. "Macnair knows what's going on. All the Death Eaters do. _Something_ is happening."

"We might find out more, now that we've bugged the house." I said.

"You could ask Leohnard." Sirius said as if it wasn't an insane idea.

"I did think of that. But..."

"But what? If the Carrows have been badgering him for the last month to join them, he must have some idea of what they're planning."

"Yes I know that, but I can't just go up to Leohnard and say 'Hi, so what's with the Death Eaters?'. Do you remember who Leohnard is? It would be suicide."

"There must be some way of cajoling the information out of him. If Leohnard is as reluctant to join the Death Eaters as you seem to think, then surely he wont mind betraying their secrets."

"I agree that Leohnard has nothing to loose by telling me what he knows, but he doesn't have anything to gain either. He's not going to give the information away for nothing."

"Can you bribe him?"

"With what?"

"Good point."

"I did think about...threatening him." I said cautiously looking meaningfully at Sirius. Sirius raised his eyebrows as soon as he understood what I meant.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" Sirius asked with a distinctly shocked look. My mouth grew slightly dry and I nodded. "You can't do that."

"Why not?" I said with feigned causal indifference – I dont' think I pulled it off, my voice was shaking too much.

"Because it's not you. It's not the way you do things." Sirius said. I looked away from Sirius and ran my hand through my hair. I looked up at the crescent shaped moon. The sky was clear so it was especially bright and darkly beautiful.

"You are right. It is not the way I do things. But this is not an ordinary case." I argued. "If Leohnard were human, I would appeal to his decency to try and convince him to help me. But Leohnard is a vampire and hence has no morals to speak of. Fear is all he responds to. And although frightening someone into doing what I want is morally questionable, if doing it enables me to gain information that would potentially save lives – that would protect Harry – surely it would be the right thing to do?"

"I'm not questioning the morality of what you are proposing." Sirius said. "I agree with you that sometimes it is right to do something that would be wrong in other situations. And especially in this case as you would be making an empty threat: you don't actually intend to hurt anyone. My point is, well...wouldn't it be degrading?"

A ripple of tension spread from my heart to the tips of my fingers. Using my lycanthropy in this manner felt disgusting. I lived my life trying to be as disparate from the werewolf stereotype as I possibly could. Using my disease to frighten someone was like admitting I was a monster. It was meeting the stereotype.

"Yes," I admitted, "I don't want to do it. But I think it would work."

"Of course it would work, I've seen you transformed, you're terrifying. First time James saw you he crapped himself." Sirius smiled slightly at the memory and I did the same, although it wasn't really amusing. "But I just can't imagine you using your condition that way."

"Well, perhaps we will learn enough just by eavesdropping and I won't have to communicate with Leohnard at all."

There was a pause while the both of us thought about what might happen in the near future and drank coffee.

"What did Harry say in his letter?" I then asked, thinking it was about time Sirius told me what had been happening on his end.

"I brought it with me." Sirius said and he pulled the letter out of the inside pocket of his robes. He unfolded it and handed it to me. I felt a sudden stab of melancholy when I recognised Harry's writing and remembered all the essays of his that I hard marked. He had a very nice writing style. He was never as accurate as Hermione (no-one was) but his essays were always nicely structured and well argued and bit more friendly feeling than Hermione's. I missed all of them. I rubbed the back of my neck and read the letter.

_Dear Sirius, _

_ Thanks for your last letter, that bird was enormous, it could hardly get through my window. _

_ Things are the same as usual here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. Thats a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mond off things. _

_ I'm OK, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. _

_ A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I dont' reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterwards? _

_ I'll send this with Hedwig when she get's back, she's off hunting at the momment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me. _

_ Harry _

_P.S. If you want to contact me, I'll be at my friend Ron Weasley's for the rest of the summer. His dad's got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup! _

"He'll be at the match now." I remarked when I got to the end.

"It'll be over by now, he'll be asleep." Sirius commented. "I wonder who won."

"Ireland did."

"How do you know?"

"Because the Irish Chasers are the best in the world."

"Ah, but Bulgaria has Victor Krum."

"Doesn't matter. He could catch the snitch twice and Bulgaria would still be behind Ireland's chasers."

"Alright alright. Back to the important stuff." I looked back at the letter.

"What's a computer?" I asked, and Sirius shrugged.

"Nevermind about that, do you not notice the breezy tone? That means he's really worried, so it must have hurt a lot."

"I did notice the tone." I replied rereading the letter as I thought. "But he's right, Voldemort couldn't be near him in Little Whinging, not with his mother's protection residing in Harry's aunt."

"What's that?" Sirius asked.

"Did Dumbledore not tell you?" I asked looking at Sirius's dark brown eyes. For a second I felt a flash of the pain I felt during the weeks after the Potter's death when I learnt the details of what had happened in Godric's Hollow.

"In case you don't remember Moony, I was sent to prison the day after they died. All I knew was that that conniving slimy piece of dragon snot had betrayed us." Sirius's face became suddenly uglier as anger flooded through him. Sirius's fists curled into fists. "I wish I'd killed him."

"Did we not decide that it was right that we didn't kill him?" I reminded gently.

"I don't care. I want him dead." Sirius spat his eyes starting to look glassy. I took a deep breath and massaged my temples. Again I was thrown back into the aftermath of James and Lily dying. I used to spend all my time sleeping. I never ate, I never left the house, I just slept and thought about how I might commit suicide. In fact, I tried once. I shook the memories away and tried to concentrate on what it was I wanted to say.

"Anyway, when Lily sacrificed herself for Harry, she cast a spell over him that protected him from Voldemort's killing curse. That protection resides in him still, and in Lily's sister, as they are blood relatives of Lily." I explained to Sirius whose brow was furrowed as he took in this new information.

"So he's safe in Little Whinging." I continued. Sirius didn't look convinced.

"He's not there now." Sirius said.

"He will be safe with Arthur Weasley, besides Voldemort hasn't regained his power yet." I folded the letter and gave it back to Sirius. Sirius took it and put it back in his pocket. I felt an itching in my throat, and looked at my feet. Why didn't Harry write to me?

"What?" Sirius said trying to get my attention.

"Why didn't Harry write to me?" I said, trying desperately not to sound like a whining teenager.

"Do you have Godfather envy?" Sirius said with a lopsided smirk.

"Well, I've spent more time with him. I know more about curses – or at least Harry would think I do." I reasoned.

"This is quite a personal thing, though." Sirius explained with a sympathetic expression that bordered on condensation, "and as nice as you are, you are not very approachable." I shifted slightly on the wall.

"I'm not approachable?" I questioned. Sirius shook his head.

"Not really Moony." Sirius said as if I should have known. "You don't show your feelings enough. I think that's what it is." I pulled a face and looked at my feet again.

"I think I'm going to come back to England." Sirius said. I looked back up at him sharply.

"No, it's too dangerous for you, what if you get caught?" I said sternly.

"I don't care. I can't stand being so far away from everything. I need to be in England. I can't be of any use in Singapore."

"What use could you be in England? You are a wanted criminal." I said. I didn't mean to sound scathing, but Sirius interpreted it that way. He glared at me. There was an awkward silence. Eventually Sirius broke it again.

"I could move back to Grimmauld place. No-one would think to look for me there." Sirius's face was emotionless and he refused to look at me, but I knew what he was feeling. Even with my lycanthropy I think I had a happier childhood than Sirius. During his preteen years he was controlled and suppressed by his parents Orion and Walburga Black, and after he started Hogwarts ad began to rebel against them, although Sirius never said, I was sure they abused him. I had only ever encountered Sirius' parents twice, once at Kings Cross on my first day at Hogwarts, and a second time again at the train station in my fourth year.

_Just like every year my mother and father had come to see me off, and the three of us waited on the platform for my friends to arrive. My father was sitting on one of the benches while my mother was testing me on my potions knowledge. _

_ "Erm, the ginger root goes in after the Armadillo bile, then some water, boil it for ten minutes, then add some Doxy fur...or was it a Scarab beetle...?" I mumbled, bitting my nails and wondering whether I had time to get my potions book out and check before I got on the train. _

_ "How would I know sweetie?" My mum said laughing, "I don't even know what Doxy fur is!" I grinned at her and she beamed back proudly. _

_ "Tell me, is the ginger root to cover the taste of the Armadillo bile?" She said and I shrugged. My father looked up from his paper to announce that Hesper Starkey had died. _

_ "I have a chocolate frog card of him." I heard a pubescent male voice behind me say. I turned to find Peter grinning at me. His father waved at my mother and gave a friendly twitch of his blonde moustache. My mother waved back then rushed over to speak to the wizard. One wizard husband and one wizard son was apparently not enough for my mother, she wanted to know every witch and wizard in the country. _

_ "How was your summer?" Peter asked me, wiping his permanently runny nose on the sleeve of his shirt. _

_ "Good, bit dull." I replied. Then I spotted James loitering by the door of the waiting room, spying on Evans. I grinned and pointed him out to Peter. Peter let out his typical strangled giggle and I started to creep up on James. Evans was acting like she didn't know James was watching her, but the way she was flicking her hair about and licking her lips made it quite obvious to me that her ignorance was just pretence. James was quite captivated so when I slapped my hand down on his shoulder he almost jump out of his skin. _

_ "Merlin's beard Remus! Don't creep up on me like that!" James yelled. James exchanged hellos and how are yours with Peter and then turned to me with a mischievous expression. _

_ "How's your furry little problem?" James asked. I think I blushed a bit, and I looked around to check no-one was listening then shrugged._

_ "Same." I said wondering why James had asked such a stupid question. _

_ "Well, Sirius and I over the summer made some real progress on our master plan! I can almost do it now!" James said and I gestured for him not to talk about 'the master plan' on the platform. "Okay, okay I'll tell you on the train. Oh – is your mum here?" James added with a hopeful gleam in his eye. I rolled my eyes. _

_ "Didn't you embarrass yourself enough in July?" I said scathingly. The marauder's had come to visit in the summer and during their visit Sirius and James had thought it terribly amusing to climb into a tree to try and spy on my mother while she got ready for bed. Unfortunately for them my father spotted them and rather than say anything (because my father was far to reticent to tell two teenage boys to stop perving on his wife) he sneakily cursed the tree so that the branch Sirius and James were sitting on snapped. They did not fall very far, so they only injuries they sustained were bruised egos, though had they broken an arm or something I would have thought it just punishment. _

_ James, Peter and I walked back towards where my father had been sitting, only he wasn't there anymore. To my horror, Sirius and my mother were engrossed in an almighty row with Walburga Black, while my father was trying to mediate between them and motivate Orion Black to calm his wife. _

_ "Oh dear." James said with a grimace. I tentatively walked forward in the hope that I could help my father calm the rowing adults. It was difficult to make out what was being said because Walburga, Sirius and my mother were shouting so loudly. I could occasionally hear "you bigoted cow!" "you haven't a shred of decency!" from Sirius, a blast of Irish anger from my mother "how dare you speak to me like that!" "I've got as much right to be here as you!", and "Be quite you filthy ungrateful boy!" "Such ridiculous behaviour! Such a vulgar display! I would not have expected anything different from an ignorant loutish muggle!" from Walburga. I walked up to my mother and put my hands on her shoulders pulling her back from Walburga. My mother stopped scolding Walburga when she saw me and her cheeks which were already pink reddened even further. _

_ "You have no right to speak to people you hardly know like they are dirt!" Sirius shouted at his mother. "She was just coming to say hello!"_

_ "Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do young man!" Walburga shouted at Sirius pointing her wand at him. Sirius stepped back and looked at the wand with fear. _

_ "Please calm down Mrs Black." My father said as politely as he could given how obviously angry he was. _

_ "Walburga." Orion said warningly in his deep hollow voice that always reminded me of the Devil. Walburga stopped threatening her son. She replaced her wand and looked down her long ugly nose at everyone as if she hadn't just made a scene. My father stepped closer to his own wife and took her hand in his. I saw my mother give my father an apologetic look and my father nod back in understanding. _

_ "I'm sure you didn't mean to cause any offence." My father said diplomatically, "and my wife and I are sorry to have misunderstood." _

_ "She meant every bloody word." Sirius hissed looking at my father whilst simultaneously expressing a deep deep hatred for his mother. My father bit his lip but made no comment. Walburga on the other had put her hand on Sirius' shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. Sirius gasped in pain and all the colour drained from his face. I stared at Sirius and knew at once that Walburga was aggravating an existing injury that no doubt she herself had caused. I felt desperate sympathy for Sirius and at the same time overwhelming gratefulness for my own loving parents. _

_ "Now, I think it is about time the boys got on the train." My father said simply. Sirius wriggled out of his mother's grip and grabbed his trunk and began to march angrily towards the train. James, Peter and I rushed after him while my parents headed back to where I had left my trunk. _

_ "Are you okay?" I asked Sirius. It was then that I noticed Sirius had the remains of a black eye. He always came back to school after the holidays with bruises. Was it Walburga? Or Orion? Or his cousin Bellatrix? _

_ "Fine!" Sirius snapped. "Please tell your mum I'm sorry for what that bitch said."_

_ "What did she say?" Asked James. _

_ "Remus' mum just came up to say hello and tripped slightly and grabbed my mum's arm to stop herself falling over. My mother, because she is a complete psychopath, seemed to take this as an expression of hostility and started yelling at Remus' mum that she was a retarded mudblood who shouldn't be allowed near magical people." _

_ "What a demented cow." James remarked. "Seriously, I spoke to my parents and they said it'd be fine if you wanted to move in with me." _

_ "I wouldn't want to burdon them..."_

_ I left Sirius and James talking and went back to my parents to get my trunk. My mother was still pink in the cheeks and was holding my father's hand very tightly. Despite Walburga's ridiculousness, my mother was obviously quite upset. _

_ "I'm sorry I made such a Holy show John." My mother said to my father. _

_ "Don't worry about it pet, she shouldn't have spoken to you like that." My father assured her gently._

_ "Is Sirius alright Remus?" My mother asked me. "He's such a nice boy and those fecking cretins are so horrible to him." _

_ "He's fine. Glad to be away from them." I replied before giving my mother a hug goodbye. I wasn't one for public displays of affection usually, but right then I was so inordinately glad that she was my mother. _


	25. The Dark Mark

Thanks for the reviews, and thanks for reading. This chapter was quite difficult for some reason. I have a feeling the next chapter will be tricky too. Things are getting a bit scary in the wizarding world you see…

Chapter 25

It was nearing one o' clock, and despite the coffee I was still feeling exhausted. Sirius told me he felt the same and wasn't sure he was really up to apparating back to Singapore, so we decided to walk back to my house and stay in Ireland for the night. As we walked back through the quite woods we talked of how Sirius might be able to reclaim his parents home as a hideout.

"When you escaped, I read in the papers that aurors attempted to find the house in Grimmauld place where the Blacks used to live. But they couldn't find it. They found number 11 and number 13, but 12 was absent. They reasoned that it was magically hidden by whomever had lived their last so that only the person who rightfully owns it would be able to enter."

"Yes that sounds about right." Sirius replied. "My father cast some pretty powerful spells over that place. I reckon I'd be safe there. Also maybe we could use a Fidelus charm."

"Yes, but my point was, are you sure _you_ would be able to find it? Are you sure it belongs to you?" I pointed out, "your parents never spoke to you once you left home, what makes you think they would leave the house to you?"

"They didn't leave it to me. They left it to Regulus, Regulus never married and he died so young, I doubt he made a will, so I would be his next of kin." Sirius reasoned.

Sirius spoke of his brother like he never knew the man. However, I think Sirius's feelings about Regulus are a lot more complicated than he ever lets on. Of what I remember of Regulus, he was a gifted wizard, as talented as Sirius no doubt, but very quiet. In fact I don't think I ever heard him speak. Sirius never got on with him, they made a point to ignore each other completely when they were at school, and once Sirius left home he never received any letters from Regulus, nor sent any. But, when Sirius heard Regulus had died he was quite greif stricken. I was not there when Sirius got the news, he just told me when he got home to the flat we shared. "My bother is dead" he had said in a completely emotionless tone of voice. I didn't ask him about it, and he didn't talk about it, and for a few days life carried on as if nothing had happened. But then I caught him crying having unearthed some childhood photos of himself and his brother. And when I asked him about it later he admitted that he blamed himself for Regulus' death: Sirius felt that it was his fault Regulus became a Death Eater in the first place, had Sirius made more of an effort to help his brother resist the pressures of his friends and parents he might not have joined with Voldemort's followers. Of course I told Sirius this was nonsense and that Regulus made his own decisions. But I don't think anything I said made any difference. And as I looked at Sirius's serious eyes as we walked through the woods, I could tell that he still blamed himself.

"The hardest part would be getting through London without anyone catching me." Said Sirius. How Sirius could talk of the possibility of being caught with such nonchalance was beyond me. When I thought of what could happen to him, all I wanted to do was grab the man, hide him in a wardrobe or something and guard it with my life. I don't think I could survive loosing him a second time.

"I am still not sure it is entirely necessary you come back to England; but if this is what you want, I'm sure we can work something out." I said solemnly.

Sirius and I made it to my house and entered through the kitchen door. Sirius immediately checked the fridge which I knew was empty.

"You have absolutely no food." Sirius said in horror. "Look! There is nothing there." He added pointing to the empty fridge.

"Yes I know." I said with a touch of impatience. "I've not been here for a month." Sirius huffed and shut the fridge then began to look in the cupboards. While Sirius hunted in the kitchen I went to collect my mail. I could see some soot on the carpet and guessed I had received some more howlers while I was away. I also had some angry letters from the ministry warning me that if I didn't keep up with my mortgage payments they would evict me. I scowled at the final notices. The Ministry of Magic really was an archaic, draconian even fascist government. People like Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair kept spineless ministers like Fudge under their control with 'donations', so wealthy pure-blood wizarding families enjoyed an easy life, while the unemployed and muggle-born received no benefits _whatsoever_ and were expected to pay the same taxes as the rest. It was utterly ludicrous! Snape may have sneared at the idea when I met him in Olivanders, but the idea of leaving the wizarding community and living like a muggle did seem appealing. My taxes would be lower, and I might be more likely to get a muggle job because I wouldn't have to tell an employer I was a werewolf – even if I did they wouldn't believe me. However, if a complication developed because of my lycanthropy, if I sustained a particularly serious injury during a full moon for example, whom would I go to if not St. Mungos? No, I was stuck in the Ministry of Magic's unethical government.

"Moony, can I eat these biscuits?" Sirius suddenly shouted from the kitchen as I shuffled through the rest of my mail.

"Biscuits? What biscuits?" I muttered to myself, "Yeah sure!" I shouted back to Sirius. Fortunately I also had a letter from Mr and Mrs Weasley that served to oppose the bills and hate mail.

_Dear Remus,_ it began in Molly's neat but girly handwriting.

_We were so sorry to learn that you will not be teaching at Hogwarts this year. Our children certainly think very highly of you, and of course we remember how skilled you were against the dark arts from the old days, so it is a shame you wont be staying on. I've hear rumours that old Mad-eye will be teaching this year. I'm not sure if that is good or bad! I know he was an expert Auror, but he didn't half terrify me! _

_ Anyway, Arthor and I were talking the other day, and we don't think we've seen you since 1982! Consequently I think it is high time we had you over for dinner! Do write back and let us know when you are free. _

_ Hope you are well, _

_ Fond Regards, _

_ Molly Weasley_

The very thought of Molly's cooking made my stomach growl. I made a mental note to send back a reply, and continued flicking through my mail. Suddenly I came across a letter that made my heart leap. I ran my fingers across the irregular and untidy handwriting. Why was she writing to me? I thought about reading the letter there and then, but then I decided to save it until I had gone to bed. I walked back to the kitchen to find Sirius chomping on some bourbon biscuits.

"What are they?" I asked him pointing to the biscuits.

"Um, I dunno, chocolate I think, though they taste a bit like they've got cinnamon or something in them..." Sirius said with his mouth full. I took the packet from him and had a look at the biscuits. They were muggle so I checked the sell-by date.

"Sirius! These biscuits are four years old!" I exclaimed. Sirius just shrugged and grabbed another one from me.

"So? You put a preserving charm on right?" Said Sirius as he shoved the whole biscuit in his mouth.

"No. I didn't know I had them." I told Sirius as I had a look at the biscuits.

"Ah, it'll be fine." Sirius said reaching towards the packet again.

"No! Look this one's got mould on it!" I said holding the rotting biscuit in front of Sirius' looked at it for a second then said,

"Well give me one of the non-mouldy ones"

"Urgh, no I'm throwing them away." I said and I threw the packet in the bin while Sirius tried to protest but found himself unable as an unavoidable yawn took hold.

"Right, well I'm going to bed." I announced. Sirius looked at me slightly suspiciously, but then stood up and said that he was going to bed too.

I didn't open the letter until I had brushed my teeth, put on some pyjamas and got into bed. My heart was pounding as I pulled the letter out of the envelope. I tried vehemently to calm my mind, but it would not stop predicting why she would be writing. Was she in some sort of trouble? Did she change her mind? I unfolded the letter slowly as my hands shook.

_Dear Remus_, it began and I heard her say my name in my head. Then I imagined her say it again, in a multitude of different tones. Whispering it in my ear, prefacing it with 'I love you', crying it out in a moment of ecstasy. I knew I should not be so sentimental, it was inappropriate on so many levels, but I reasoned I had been celibate for almost two years, it was only natural for me to romanticise a letter from her.

_It has been a long time since we last spoke, and you probably were not expecting a letter from me. I myself, never expected to speak to you again. But, I have realised that I owe you an apology. It is long overdue I know, but it has taken me this long to really understand what it must have been like for you. _

_ You may or may not know this, but eight years ago I got married, and I now have two children. Beth who is six and Tom who is four. _

I stopped reading for a moment and tried to think. In the back of my mind I felt a swelling feeling of jealously mixed with hopelessness. I knew if I dwelled on this feeling it would overtake me.

"It was fourteen years ago." I said out loud to myself. But it didn't seem to make a difference. I felt angry that I still felt upset about something that happened fourteen years ago, but I couldn't help it. I loved this woman. And she was married to someone else. Of course she would have got married, she was too beautiful not to have got married.

"It would never have worked." I told myself. "Had she stayed with you, she would never have had children. She would never have been happy." I felt calmer after a few moments and returned to the letter.

_Tom has Autism which is a mental condition that is not common among wizards. Although it can be quite a disabling condition, my husband and I have received fantastic support from some of the muggle organisations, and Tom is as happy as any other child. However, it has been difficult at times. Autism can be difficult to manage in itself, but worse is the stigma and fear associated with it. And, it has made me realise that it is no different with you. _

_ Although, I think, ultimately it was the right decision, I think I made it for the wrong reasons. And for that I am sincerely sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_ Best wishes, _

_ Sienna _

I folded the letter and let it rest in my lap. I sat silently for a few moments resting my head against the headboard of my bed. It was admirable, I suppose, for Sienna to apologise to me. But, what difference did she really think it would make to my life? She still didn't love me. And she never would. She was sorry she left me because she was afraid of me, but the fact remains that she was still afraid of me. And so would everyone else be. And no-one can ever be happy with someone they are afraid of. How can you love someone you are afraid of. I massaged my temples and tried to beat back my old demons. I didn't want them to catch up with me now. I was too tired, there was too much I had to do. But I could hear them threatening and taunting me.

_No-one will love you Lupin. You are a monster and nothing will ever change that. You will never make anyone happy. _The wolf jeered making every muscle in my body twist with tension. Sienna Capella was my first proper girlfriend. She was Sirius' girlfriend first actually, and of all of Sirius' girlfriends she was bar far the most beautiful.

In November 1979, I was out with James, Lily, Peter celebrating James and Lily's first year anniversary. I was sitting next to Peter and facing the door of the pub through which I could see snow beginning to fall. When I saw Sienna enter, I was in the process of taking a drink of Butterbeer, and the sight of her threw me so greatly I ended up pouring the butterbeer on my lap instead of into my mouth. She was quite tall, with blonde hair and grey eyes. She had lips that turned up at the corner and freckles on her shoulders and always smelt of flowers. She noticed me looking at her and gave me a warm smile. I smiled back, astonished that she wasn't repulsed by me. Sirius entered a few seconds later brushing snow of his shoulders and complaining to Sienna about how he slipped on the ice. Sienna laughed a very soft honest laugh then Sirius took her hand in his and looked towards our table. Of course she would be his girlfriend.

For the next few weeks I had to put up with Sirius bringing Sienna to our flat, watching them cuddle up together our sofa in the evenings, and hearing them make love in the room next to my own. My jealousy nearly drove me mad, and eventually it was too great for Sirius and Sienna not to notice. Sirius just thought I was being a git and told me to get over it, but Sienna seemed to take it quite differently. At first she seemed to feel sorry for me, and made an effort not to be affectionate with Sirius while I was there; then she started avoiding me completely, and I thought she had decided to hate me. This only served to make things even more awkward and it was difficult for Sirius and I to spend time together without the awkwardness showing through. Then one night Sienna came over to meet Sirius, only he was detained somewhere on Order business. So I made her some tea, and we talked while we waited for Sirius to come home. And, eventually she nervously confessed to me that since she had found out I liked her, she had been unable to stop thinking about me. She said she felt awful about it because she was very fond of Sirius, and that was why she had been avoiding me. After that, one thing led to another, and I ended up kissing her.

When I told Sirius what had happened, he put a rather nasty curse on me and told me that he'd never forgive me. He told me to move out and I had to stay with James and Lilly. Sirius broke up with Sienna, but it didn't feel right for me to pursue anything with her. I spent a week doing all sorts of things to try and show Sirius how sorry I was and how much I wanted to live with him again. I bought him gifts and wrote letters and sent him charms that would remind him of the good times we had had. None of it worked. James tried to persuade Sirius to forgive me, but that backfired as James' method was to remind Sirius about how I had forgiven him for the whole Snape debacle. Eventually it was Sienna who changed Sirius' mind. Apparently he bumped into her in London and she told him how I had told her I couldn't go out with her, and seemed so upset about it, that Sirius felt sorry for us both that he forgave us.

I was completely in love with Sienna. She was beautiful and witty and brilliantly clever. She was an artist, but like me she preferred muggle paintings so didn't use magic in her artwork. We spent a lot of our time painting together. It didn't bother me that she was better than I was. She was the first woman I slept with, and the first woman who seemed to love me.

But, after six months I told her what I was. I had to. She was beginning to wonder why I was never free at a full moon, and why I always seemed so ill after. Also, it felt wrong to keep this information from her. I loved her, I wanted her to know everything about me, so I couldn't keep it a secret any more. I shall never be able to forget her face when I told her. At first she thought I was joking, that it was another practical joke Sirius and I played so often. But when she realised, she seemed equal parts heartbroken and disgusted. She said I never should have lied to her about something like that. I tried to explain that I always intended to tell her, I had just been waiting for the right moment. She started to cry and I reached out to touch her shoulder in comfort, but she flinched and wouldn't let me touch her. She told me she couldn't be with me anymore and practically fled from the house.

I tried to convince her to come back, but she never replied to any of my letters and wouldn't let me see her. Eventually I came to understand her point of view, and I accepted that she didn't mean to break my heart, it was just too much for her. And, I carried on, I got on with things. I had to. The war had gotten so much worse by that point that I was almost always fighting. I pushed Sienna to the very back of my mind, but there she stayed, constantly reminding me of what I can't have.

I fell asleep thinking about her, and my dreams were uneasy. I woke very suddenly the next morning to the sound of Sirius banging on my bedroom door.

"Wake up Moony! It's half eleven!" He shouted through the door.

"Let me sleep, sadist!" I yelled back. Sirius laughed his bark-like laugh and I heard him go back downstairs. I shuddered slightly at my nightmare. I could hardly believe that it had actually happened. I felt guilty that it had. I took a deep breath and got out of bed.

When I got to the kitchen Sirius had found some teabags from somewhere and was making some tea.

"Are you alright? You look dreadful." He asked me.

"I'm fine." I said. "I didn't sleep well." Sirius stared at me while I sat down at the table and yawned to try and prove my point.

"Yeah..." Sirius said. "And what else?"

"Nothing." I said, though I should have known better than to try and lie to Sirius.

"Come on Moony, spill." Sirius said, turning around to pour the boiled water into two mugs.

"Um. I er, got a letter from Sienna." I said eventually.

"Who?" Sirius said at first, then he turned sharply back around. "Oh! Merlin! What did she want?"

"She didn't want anything. She said...sorry." I said quietly.

"Sorry? For what?"

"For dumping me."

"She bloody well shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"Well, she had just reason..." I mumbled.

"_Just reason_?" Sirius said incredulously. "Remus, she was a coward! She should never have left you. You treated her so well – much better than I did." Sirius laughed slightly at himself and I shrugged and tried not to look at him.

"Remus!" Sirius said sternly. "Look at me! She didn't deserve you." I looked up at Sirius with mild incredulity.

"Put the radio on Sirius. The news will be on." I said. Sirius huffed and tutted at me but did as I asked him. Some truly awful song by Celestina Warbeck was playing and both Sirius and I pulled disgusted faces and turned the volume down.

"Why is she so popular?" Sirius complained and I shrugged.

"Wizards don't have an awful lot of magical music to choose from." I commented. Sirius and I then had a short conversation about the musical merits of AC/DC before the news came on.

"Terrifying scenes unfolded at the Quidditch World Cup Final last night..." The new reported said and Sirius and both jumped up and rushed to the radio to turn it on. A small scuffle ensued as we both reached for the volume control at the same time, but soon the voice of the newswitch filled the kitchen.

"At around 2 am last night, a group of wizards dressed as Death Eaters infiltrated the campsite where thousands of Quidditch supporters were staying. The offenders marched through the campsite with the muggle family responsible for managing the campsite magically suspended in the air above them. The campsite was trashed and quidditch supporters forced to seek safety in the surrounding woods. At some point during the night the Dark Mark was cast over the woods sparking elevated panic. The Dark Mark, known as the symbol of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, has been used by Death Eaters in the past to mark a murder of a muggle or muggle-born. It is currently unconfirmed whether the Dark Mark was used to mark a murder on this occasion, though The Daily Prophet has reported that bodies were removed from the woods. None of the alleged Death Eaters were apprehended or identified..."

Sirius swore loudly and turned to me.

"Do you think Harry is okay?" he said urgently.

"I'm sure Harry is fine. She said rumours of murder were unconfirmed." I said, though I was just as worried as Sirius.

"Yeah, but the dark mark?" Sirius said his eyes wide and shocked. "And Death Eaters out torturing muggles again?"

"That doesn't mean Voldemort is back." I said understanding Sirius' fears.

"I need to go and see Harry..." Sirius said walking towards the kitchen door, perhaps intending to get dressed.

"Sirius, no. You are not going anywhere." I said grabbing him by the upper arm.

"I need to find out if he's okay." Sirius said angrily to me.

"I will floo to Arther's and find out what I can. You stay here and don't do anything stupid." I said paternally.

"Don't patronise me Remus!" Sirius spat.

"Sorry." I muttered, making my way towards the stairs to get dressed. I dressed quickly, not bothering to wash or shave. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on my way out. I looked very old. I felt it too. Death Eaters, the Dark Mark...it all pointed to the worst. And if that meant another war I would have to fight. But, that was the last thing in the world I wanted to do. I had only just lived through the first war, I didn't think I would survive a second.


	26. The Aurors Arrive

I've just realist I spell Arthur differently every time I write it. Sorry about that, I've checked and the correct spelling is Arthur, with a 'u'.

I'm so glad you are enjoying the story, and it is lovely to have some new readers. I'm getting very excited about the order of the phoenix as well, and some more Tonks! In fact I'm probably too excited because I'm writing this instead of my essays!

Chapter 26

I arrived in the Weasley's kitchen fireplace feeling slightly dizzy. I tried to stand up straight but hit my head on the mantle. A cloud of soot consequently shrouded me and I coughed.

"He-hello?" I called. For a moment or two there was no reply. I called again. As I had arrived uninvited a security charm over the fireplace prevented me from stepping into the kitchen without one of the Weasley's granting me permission. I looked at the Weasley's warm cluttered kitchen while I waited for someone to show up. Straight in front of me was their slightly-too-small-for-its-purpose kitchen table with eight chairs around it. The small blue chair had 'Ginny' carved into the back, with 'has a puffskin for a brain' written in black pen underneath. Beyond the table was the sink with the breakfast dishes washing themselves and next to the sink was the kitchen door. I could see through the window of this door Mrs Weasley slowly approaching. She opened the door and gave a shriek when she saw me. I smiled guiltily and waved.

"Goodness! Remus!" She exclaimed clutching her chest with one hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to inquire about last night." I said gently, and rocked on my feet slightly to indicate that I still could not enter the house.

"Oh, come in, come in...would you like some tea?" Mrs Weasley said beckoning me in.

"Er, no thank you Molly, I really can't stay long." I said brushing the soot of my robes and stepping into the kitchen. "Where is everyone?" I added, but as I asked, I looked at the Weasley's very informative clock and saw the answer. Mr Weasley's hand of the clock was pointed at 'work', as was Percy's, the hands of Ron, Charlie, Fred and George were all pointing to 'garden', Bill's was pointed to 'travelling' and Molly's was pointed to 'Home'. None were pointed at 'Mortal Peril' so I felt immediately comforted.

"The children are all out playing quidditch and Arther has gone to work to try and smooth things over." Molly said with a sigh. "The ministry have been blamed for all of it, so there will be lots of complaints to deal with.

"I see." I said simply. "Do you know much about what occurred last night?"

"I only know what Arthur has told me." Molly said gesturing for me to sit down. I took her offer and sat next to Ginny's chair. Molly looked at me with motherly concern, that made me feel uncomfortably exposed. She looked carefully at my eyes and face then inspected my unironed, moth eaten robes.

"You are too thin Remus..." She remarked. Her tone was much more concerned than reproachful, which served to make me feel even more uncomfortable. "Are you sure you don't want some tea?"

"Oh, alright, I will have some." I conceded. While Molly made tea she told me what Arthur had told her. They were woken by screams and the sight of Death Eaters marching across the campsite, with the muggle campsite manager and his family, elevated above the ground and forced against their will to assume all sorts of demeaning positions. The Death Eaters proceeded to blow up tents and try to curse ministry officials while everyone else fled into the surrounding woods. Arthur told the children to wait in the woods for him while he tried to help the ministry apprehend the Death Eaters, to no avail. Then when the Dark Mark was cast, the Death Eaters fled, and Arthur and the rest headed towards the Mark in the hope of catching whoever cast it. In typical fashion, Harry Ron and Hermione were right underneath the Mark, along with Bartimus Crouch's (the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation) house elf. Said house elf was apparently holding Harry's wand that she had found somewhere, and it turned out that Harry's wand had cast the Dark Mark, which again was typical. Just like James, Harry seemed to be a magnet for trouble.

"Why would a house elf cast a Dark Mark?" I asked, quite baffled by the information,

"unless she was ordered to."

"Yes but her only orders come from Mr Crouch surely, and _he_ wouldn't order her to cast the Dark Mark."

"Of course not, no." I agreed, remembering how when Mr Crouch's own son was sent to Azkaban for torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom to insanity, he hardly batted an eye-lid: the law was the law, he seemed to think.

"Anyway, Arthur said the house elf denied casting the spell, and Ron said that they heard the person casting it and it didn't sound like an elf."

"Hmm, well in that case she must have just picked it up after the real culprit discarded it." I deduced.

"That's what I think too." Molly agreed.

"But surely the elf would have seen something, if she picked the wand up straight after?"

"She said she didn't see anything, apparently." Molly added with a sigh. I sighed too and sipped the tea Molly had set in front of me.

"Whoever cast the Mark can't have been part of the group of Death Eaters. Not if they all disapparated when it appeared, because otherwise they would have known someone was going to cast it. I also think this shows that they weren't there on orders from a higher authority."

"The one who cast it must have been a Death Eater as well though, even if he was there for a separate reason." Molly interjected. "And perhaps he did it because he was ordered to by...by...you-know-who." Molly's face was stiff with fear, as like me, she knew how terrible it would be for Voldemort to return.

"I don't know. There is not enough information to conclude anything." I said, which sadly offered no comfort to Molly or to myself. I gave another irritated sigh, I didn't have enough information to make any conclusions. Molly and I drank our tea in silence for a few minutes then she asked me if I had received her letter.

"I did, thank you." I said. "And I would love to have dinner with you and Arthur, unfortunately I'm tied up with some work Dumbledore has asked me to do." I added being deliberately vague. Molly knew enough about the sort of work Dumbledore used to ask me to do when I was in the Order for this news to cause a worried crease to appear on her forehead, but she also knew better than to ask me more about it.

"I'll let you know when I've finished." I said with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Molly nodded.

"Will you be bringing anyone?" She asked me with a suggestive and also hopeful raise of her eyebrow. I chuckled masochistically.

"No." I said. As my own mind apparently thinks it amusing to be cruel to me, it reminded me of Sienna's letter, and how apology and pity were the best things I could hope a woman feel for me. "Still quite on that front." I added to Molly who gave an 'oh well' sort of shrug. After I had finished my tea Molly asked me if I wanted to say hello to Harry and the others. I did, but I knew Sirius would be pacing angrily in my kitchen so I decided not to.

I headed back home, and sure enough Sirius was dressed and pacing. I told him that Harry was absolutely fine and that no-one had been hurt, but like myself, he still took the quidditch world cup fiasco as an ominous sign. Sirius still insisted that he was going to come back to England, and I couldn't really stop him. Instead, I promised to help him reclaim Grimmauld Place as soon as I was done in Germany. Then Sirius apparated back to Singapore and I apparated back to Germany.

Over the next few weeks Faustus and I spent almost all our time in a small tent located a shot distance from the Death Eater's hideout. It was risky being so close, even with the protecting and concealing charms Faustus and I had placed on the tent, but we had to stay quite close to the Death Eaters in order to receive signals from the magical bugging devices we had planted in their shack. We didn't hear very much of interest at first because apparently a few of the Death Eaters were no longer staying in the shack, we estimated only five or six remained. We thought perhaps they had given up on trying to persuade Leohnard to join them. But a few nights before the September full moon, we overheard a conversation between the Carrows themselves. Faustus and I sat in our little tent with the remains of our Bratwurst and the speaker of our bugging devices on the table. I charmed my quill to transcribed every word that was said while we both listened carefully.

"Robin you here?" Said a wheezy male voice that I suspected was Amycus'.

"Yes I'm here." Said a disgruntled Albanian accent.

"Well then get over here, you great lump of lard, I want a report." Came Amycus' voice. Amycus and Robin had a small argument in which several Albanian swear words were used. Then, they got down to the important stuff, as my transcript describes:

Robin: It is no good boss, the vampires are not interested, and Leohnard has threatened to kill us all if we don't leave the country. I think we should do as he says.

Amycus Carrow: There must be a way of convincing him!

Robin: There is not! Leohnard is not frightened of the Dark Lord. Of course he could never oppose him, but if Leohnard declined to join sides there wouldn't be a lot even the Dark Lord himself could do.

Alecto Carrow: I think we have pushed our luck with the vampire enough already. He has already killed Portus, we can't risk it anymore! I say we pack up and leave. Tell Macnair we failed.

Amycus: Macnair will not take kindly to that.

Alecto: So what? What exactly could Macnair do? He can't get us arrested because he asked us to do this, he can't kill us because it would look too suspicious.

Amycus: I don't know about that.

Robin: Well Macnair doesn't even know me so I've nothing to loose by leaving.

The sound of a chair scraping across a wooden floor and someone standing up.

Amycus: Shut up and sit down Robin! You do have something to loose, 'cos I'll ring your bloody neck if you don't start showing me some respect.

The sound of Robin giving a yelp of pain, obviously having been cursed by Amycus.

Alecto: The crux of it is, if we stay here Leohnard will defiantly kill us, if we go back and tell Macnair we failed, he might do something nasty but we probably wont die.

Amycus: Alright, alright, we'll tell him it's pointless.

Alecto: I don't know why Macnair is so worried anyway, the Dark Lord's return was only a rumour.

A new voice, deep and raspy, with a German accent: The Dark Lord will return. His servant in England with make sure of that.

After that the Death Eater's conversation turned to how and when they should leave for home and Fautus looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"So, you-know-who has a servant in England." Faustus said. And I swallowed.

"It seems to me that Macnair's attempt to recruit vampires is not to _aid_ Voldemort's return -" Faustus flinched at the name as he always did, but I ignored him and carried on. "- but it still might be on Voldemort's orders."

"But they said even you-know-who wouldn't be able to recruit Leohnard. So if you-know-who did return, at least we wouldn't have a vampire army to worry about as well." Faustus said then he let our a single mirthless 'ha', "We are talking as if you-know-who's return is a definitely possibility now. I cannot believe it. I'm glad I'm old, so that if there is a second war, I'd die early on." I shuddered at the morbidity of our conversation, and felt my heart sting at the prospect of fighting another war.

"Do you think the servant in England is Sirius Black?" Faustus said. For a brief second I almost forgot that most of the wizarding world still thinks of Sirius as a hard and fast Death Eater hell bent on killing Harry Potter, and almost laughed. Luckily I caught myself and shook my head.

"Black is too high profile a convict to be a successful spy for Voldemort." I said hoping Faustus would agree. Apparently he did because he didn't say anything. "If the Death Eaters are leaving Germany we probably wont find out any more, like what the servant in England is doing." As I spoke, my gesticulations were irritated and impatient and Faustus looked at me as if he was worried for my sanity.

"This has not been a complete waste," Faustus said reassuringly, "we have found out some things: like how Macnair is behind it."

"Yes, but we still don't know _why_ Macnair is doing it. All we know is that it is not to aid Voldemort's return – but thats just negative information, we have no positive information."

"Negative information is still information." Faustus said again with wisdom in his voice. "On most of my reconnaissance missions in the past we found out a lot less than this, believe me."

Faustus and I stayed listening to the Death Eaters until we thought they had gone to bed, then we returned to Faustus' cabin went to bed ourselves. Then, the next day, we carried out the same routine. Not very many things of interest were said over the net few days. We learnt that the German Death Eater with deep voice was called Nagel and had killed another wizard sometime in the past month and an English Death Eater called Finley admitted to killing two muggle-borns in 1980. But apart from that, we gained no more useful information.

We decided that the night of the full moon would be our last night of eavesdropping, after that we would report back to Dumbledore and hopefully he would let me go home. After all, I had a mortgage to avoid paying, and money to fail

It was nearing sunset when Fautus woke me. Apparently I had fallen asleep in my chair while we were listening to the Death Eaters drone on about how having sex with muggles was disgusting.

"Hey, Lupin, wake up." Faustus said giving my shoulder a rough shake.

"What did I miss?" I asked.

"Nothing much, besides you looked like you needed the sleep." Fautus said. "I only woke you because you need to get back and take your last dose of wolfsbane before sunset."

"Ah yes." I said running my hand through my hair that was really getting quite long. It almost reached my jaw. "Are you going to stay?"

"I will for a bit I think." Faustus said, while some Death Eater said that Muggle women must have hairy legs because they don't have a shaving charm. "Wouldn't want to miss out on the Death Eaters declarations of stupidity." I chuckled and picked up my cloak from the back of the chair. Over the last week, the pleasant August whether had fled Germany and an Autumn breeze had taken it place rendering it cool enough for a cloak. I put the cloak on and ducked out through the door of the tent. I was about to apparate back to Faustus's cabin when I saw something strange about two hundred yards away. A group of people were standing apparently looking towards the Death Eater's hideout. I took my wand out of my pocket and touched it to my left temple.

"Teleskopos." I said, and a second later I could zoom in on the group of strangers at will. There were five of them all together and they were certainly not Death Eaters. Three of them were wearing the emblem of the German aurors on their robes, the other two were also aurors, though they were not wearing any badge or emblem. I knew them both to be aurors because I had met them both before: one of them was the stocky over-confident auror John Dawlish, and the other was a very beautiful but serious looking Tonks. My heart thrilled when I saw her. Every time I saw her she became more fascinating, and every time I saw her I regretted that I only ever seem to catch glimpses of her. Today her hair was short, as it often was, and a sleek mahogany colour. I zoomed in as close as I could so that I could see her deep brown eyes. She looked determined, and at the same time a little nervous. Perhaps this was her first dangerous mission. I looked back at the Death Eater's shack. There were five of them there tonight: both the Carrows, Robin, the murderer Finley and the viscous sounding German, Nagel. I guessed the five aurors were here to arrest the Death Eaters, perhaps they had also been spying on them. I felt suddenly so anxious for Tonks. What if she got hurt? But, I assured myself, she was a professional, she knew how to look after herself. What's more, whatever the aurors were here for I didn't want them catching Faustus and I at our ilegal espionage, so I ran back into the tent.

"Faustus, we have to leave." I said urgently

"Why? What's going on?" Faustus said standing up.

"Some aurors have turned up, so we better make ourselves scarce lest we end up in Azkaban with the enemy."

"Oh right!" Faustus said whipping out his wand and magically packing away all our evidence. Then we packed away the tent and stuffed everything into the small leather bag I had enchanted with an undetectable extension charm. Faustus shoved the bag over his shoulder and we turned to look back at the Death Eaters shack before we disapparated. Part of me really didn't want to leave. Now that I knew she was here I wanted to help her. But of course, it was a full moon tonight, so I would be of no use anyway. I zoomed in on the aurors and watched them approach the shack while Faustus yanked my arm and asked me what I was waiting for. One of the aurors shouted for the Death Eaters to come out with their wands displayed.

"Come on Remus!" Faustus urged me.

"Alright." I said grudgingly, but then the air was filled with a strange high pitched noise, like a thousand flying mice. I looked up at the orange sky and saw that they weren't mice, but bats. At once, one word entered my mind: vampires. Before I had time to come up with a plan, the mass of bats was dividing into individual clouds. Each cloud swirled closely together and transformed into a single humanoid vampire, with his long fangs bared and ready to fight.

Note: I hope it is clear that each individual vampire can transform into a set of bats.


	27. A ThreeSided Battle

Short chapter today, but I wanted to end it on a semi-cliff hanger. This chapter was a bit tricky because action is very difficult to write. I hope it is okay and you understand what is going on.

Chapter 27

I looked towards the setting sun, and saw how low it really was. I probably only had ten minutes until I transformed. With my heart thumping in my throat I saw that the vampires had surrounded the Death Eaters shack and had started to attack Death Eaters and aurors indiscriminately. The wizards fired spells at the vampires who batted them away with their bare hands. I made to run towards them to help, but something grabbed me from behind. I was pulled backwards by the neck. I was forced onto my knees. Then my attacker grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back so that I was looking at the sky. Then the ugly pale face of a young male vampire filled my field of vision. Apparently vampires could see through concealment charms with ease. The vampire looked at me, his pale blood shot eyes narrowed then he leant close to me and gave a loud sniff.

"Urgh!" He declared loudly and he kneed me in the back so that I fell forward then the vampire kicked me in the chest."It's a werewolf, Tamlane!" The vampire yelled while I got back to my feet and stepped away from the vampire. The vampire looked at me and gave a sinister smile. I looked towards the vampire's associate Tamlane. Tamlane was restraining Faustus with one arm and holding his wand with the other.

"How disgusting!" Tamlane said, throwing Faustus' wand into the undergrowth and turning to look at me with amused revulsion. Faustus struggled in the vampire's grip so I took my wand and fired a revulsion jinx at Tamlane. But Tamlane impatiently batted the purple light away as if it were a fly. The first vampire then pulled out a dagger at pointed it at me.

"A werewolf that can do spells!" He yelled.

"Expelliarmus!" I yelled quickly, the knife flew out of the vampires hand and while he looked around for it I tried to stun him, but he dodged the spell and with an ultrasonic whistle, that my human ears could not hear, he called for another vampire. Seconds later my vision was obscured by a camp of bats swirling around me. The group of bats presently transformed into a single female vampire who flashed a maniacal grin, then charged at me with a dagger. I grabbed the arm that held the dagger only just before it entered my abdomen and then quickly jinxed her so that she was forced to fly off of me, through the air, landing about twenty feet away. The male vampire from before gave an angry roar then charged at me. He deflected my jinxes, but protection spells stopped him getting too close with his dagger. I heard Faustus suddenly yell out. I looked in his direction and saw that Tamlane had bitten him.

"Offendo!" I yelled pointing at Tamlane while the other vampire threw his dagger at me. The dagger narrowly missed my head and Tamlane jerked backwards as if he had been hit by something large and blunt, and was forced to let go of Faustus. Faustus at once put his hands to his bleeding neck. The first vampire screamed in anger at the same time that I shouted "stupify!". Once the vampire was down I rushed to Faustus. His robes were already covered in blood that was pouring from a deep wound. I tried a couple of healing spells, but with only limited success.

"It's alright Remus." Faustus croaked. "I have some diffiny back at the cabin, that should work."

"He's pierced your artery though..." I said anxiously, "you should go to hospital."

"No, he hasn't." Faustus assured me. "He didn't have time to."

"You best go." I ordered.

"What about you?"

"I'm going to help them." I said looking at the battle that was taking place at the bottom of the hill.

"But..." Faustus began.

"I have to do what I can." I said, and Faustus didn't argue with me. Instead he grabbed the leather bag that held our evidence and his wand, and with concentrated effort he dissaparated.

Then I half ran half skidded down the hill. Once I reached the bottom I was already in the middle of a full scale battle. I saw a German auror being restrained by two vampires both ready to bite him, and rushed to his aid. I managed to force them away from him with a repulsion spell. Once the auror was free, he summoned his wand from the floor and the pair of us battled with the two vampires. They could not fire any spells back, but they repelled our attacks so easily. What's more, the vampires could also transform into a group of physically separate but mentally united bats, that were almost impossible to hit with a spell. This is why wizards do not allow non-humans to carry wands, because they would be far too powerful for us ever to control.

Eventually the auror and I managed to over power the two vampires. Once they were down, the auror pointed his wand at me, perhaps thinking I was a Death Eater. I held my arms up in surrender and shook my head to try and indicate that I wasn't, but then a shock and pain ripped its way all through my body. I yelled out and hunched over. I felt my muscles tremble and my spine ache. The sun had set. Transformation was imminent. Before the auror could stun me, or bind me in ropes, or do whatever it was he wanted to do, another vampire grabbed him by the throat and lifted him from his feet. The vampire threw him to the ground and lept upon him. I suppose it was to my advantage that the vampires avoided me as they could immediately tell what I was. I magically pulled the vampire off of the auror and engaged him in battle. But, once again, I was crippled with a pain that raged through my limbs. I dropped my wand and a vampire struck me sending me tumbling backwards.

I pulled myself up and saw another man being bitten, while the auror from before was again trying to defend himself. I tried to look around for my wand, but it was too dark and the spasms and shakes overwhelming my body made it too hard to concentrate. Then two vampires grabbed me and attempted to stab me. By the time I had fought them off, claws had started to force themselves out of my nail beds, my back had started to lengthen, and I could feel fur prickling through my skin underneath my clothes. I looked around me at the furious fight between human and vampire. The humans were so outnumbered, but I couldn't stay. I never managed to take that last dose of wolfsbane, I would be just as dangerous to the humans as the vampres were.

Then I saw her. She was shooting jets of fire at a tall vampire with long dark hair. The vampire took no notice of Tonks' enchanted fire, as it extinguished as soon as it touched his body causing him no harm at all. Instead, he walked slowly, calmly and steadily towards Tonks who had nowhere to run to as she was surrounded by trees. The vampire grabbed Tonks' wandarm and twisted it forcing her to drop her wand. I jumped up and ran towards her. The vampire put his other hand on Tonks' face forcing her to tilt her head backwards and arch her back. She let out a scream. The vampire opened his mouth and began to lower it towards her exposed neck. But I reached them. I grabbed the vampire by the shoulders and pulled him away. The vampire turned at me with surprise and anger, and struck me across the jaw. I reeled at the force of it, and felt momentarily disorientated, in which time, the vampire hit me again. The blunt pain of his attack was accompanied by another almighty ache as my bones stretched and changed. I fell to my knees. But then the vampire grabbed me by the neck and tried to throttle me. I scratched at the arm that held my neck with the claws that I had grown, but entirely in vain. The cuts I caused knitted back together and healed instantly and I didn't yet have the wolf's strength that would enable me to prize the vampire's hands away from me. As I gasped and chocked I looked at the vampire's face. It was aesthetically perfect. Every feature was completely faultless and in perfect proportion. Without a doubt, this vampire was the most handsome man I had ever seen. The only thing that stopped him being beautiful was the hatred and immortal evil that poured from his acid green eyes. I knew immediately that this was Leohnard.

Leohnard smiled as he crushed my throat. But then, a blast of blue light came from somewhere and hit Leohnard forcing him to let me go. I fell again to my knees and took a huge gasping breath. Leohnard meanwhile had turned back to Tonks. I jumped from the ground and in front of Tonks before Leohnard had a chance to touch her. Leohnard's face contorted with rage and he grabbed me by the shoulders. He tried to hit me, but I dodged the swipes of his fists. A sudden shot of pain and several cracks signalled the realignment of my ribs as they changed to their wolf form. While I was weakened with pain Leohnard seized me and spun me round so that I was looking at Tonks while Leohnard held me by the upper arms. Tonks stared at me with her mouth open and her eyes wide with complete shock mixed with pure horror. I suddenly felt a pain in my mouth and knew that my teeth were starting to grow. I didn't have much time. Then Leohnard began to pull my arms backwards, attempting to dislocate my shoulders. It had to be now. I closed my eyes and with great effort I dissaparated, forcing Leohnard to come with me.


	28. My Most Shameful Memory

OK, I have to attach a warning to this chapter.

In fact I am taking quite a risk with it I think, but I don't want to put the rating of this story up to M, because for most of it I think T is appropriate. However, I am aware that some of you reading this story are quite young so...

As well as some werewolf-vampire violence, this chapter includes a description of a suicide attempt. It is not especially graphic, but obviously, by its nature, it might be distressing. If you wish to skip this chapter because of it, then you will not miss much plot wise (in fact I'll give a little summary in the next chapter if you for people who skip).

Chapter 28

Leohnard and I landed heavily somewhere in the moonlit forrest. We were still in Germany, as I apparated to the first place that came to my mind, which just happened to be part of the forrest where I had walked the day before. When we landed, Leohnard fell away from me and tumbled to his knees the apparition having disorientated him. I too fell to the ground, but with a cry of pain as my skull was being contorted into a wolf's head and every muscle made to stretch with my growing bones. I frantically tried to pull off the clothes that now felt so constricting. I gave another cry and lay down on the grass as my feet transformed and painfully forced off my shoes.

"How dare you!" Leohnard screamed at me. I turned to look at him as my eyes watered. Leohnard was pacing the ground not far from me, his face flushed with such indescribable fury. "How dare you _transport_ me!" he roared spitting as he spoke. Leohnard did not seem at all perturbed by my half transformed form. And I was not surprised. I was almost paralysed with pain and he was the most feared vampire of all Europe. Until my transformation was complete I was at his mercy.

"I can hardly believe that such a disgusting weak minded coward would dare to treat me so disrespectfully!" Leohnard roared. His voice was strong and his elocution exact despite the long, razor sharp fangs that stood proudly in his mouth. "You are just as bad as those ridiculous humans that call themselves Death Eaters."

"You thought they were working for Tom Riddle didn't you?" Leohnard said pointing his finger at me. "You thought Tom Riddle wanted my help. It is true, werewolf, the Dark Lord has previously requested my services. It was not in my interest to oppose him, but he wasn't foolish enough to challenge me when I refused to become involved." Leohnard paced around me as he spoke, while I lay on the ground and moaned as my body went through the last stages of transformation.

"Tom Riddle would not be stupid enough to approach me again, and he certainly wouldn't _threaten_ me like those asinine magicians." Leohnard continued. "They are not here on his orders." Leohnard stopped pacing and looked at me, he smiled. Then he laughed. It was a maniacal sort of laugh, that made me shiver. "You want to know why they are here? Well, the answer is, that they are trying to get Death Eater brownie points for betraying their lord when he fell!" Leohnard laughed again at the ridiculousness of humans.

"Pathetic disgusting mortals!" Leohnard spat, his face filled with fury. Leohnard looked directly at me, and I was drawn immediately to his green eyes. They were so piercing and bright in the moonlight that I could not look away from them. Too late I realised what a mistake this was. Leohnard quickly gained access to my mind and, once he was there, I could not keep him out. I felt him riffle through all of my memories, even those that I had pushed to the deepest parts of my mind in the hope that no-one would ever see them. "Lupin, weak pathetic monster!" Leohnard screamed as he forced me to relive not my saddest memories as a dementor might do, but my most _shameful_. My whole body itched and ached with guilt and humiliation. He knew all my worst secrets! He knew how jealous I had always felt of James, who was so handsome and talented and who everyone, including Sirius, liked better than me. He knew how badly I had wanted to murder Peter. He knew how much I resented doing dangerous unpaid work for Dumbledore. And he knew what my feelings were for Tonks. I had never consciously admitted what my feelings were – but Leohnard pulled them from my head and displayed them to me in all their immoral and vulgar detail. He reminded me of how often I dream about making love with her, how I wish she might fall in love with me.

"She never will werewolf." Leohnard taunted. I was so racked with shame and self-loathing that I didn't notice that I had completely transformed, and was now a strong and powerful wolf capable of tearing the vampire into a thousand pieces if I wanted to. Instead I cowered from the mental torture one vampire had so easily been able to put me through. "She would never be attracted to someone so old, so broken, so unsuccessful. You had the right idea all those years ago..." I looked questioningly at Leohnard. Leohnard grinned with triumph.

"Yes beast, I can see that memory too. I even know that secret. I know how close to madness you came. I know how much pain and sorrow you put your poor dead mother through. I know how selfish you were!" Leohnard taunted as he gleefully strode around the werewolf. "You should have done it! They would all have been better off if you had died! But you got _scared_ didn't you! The sight of all that blood frightened you! You were too _cowardly_ to kill yourself so you cried for help."

I gave a small moan and tried to curl up even smaller on the ground while Leohnard laughed and danced around me. The dark event from my past Leohnard was referring to played out inside my head over and over. I had tried so hard to forget it, I had worked so hard to move past it, but no matter what, I cannot change what happened. I have since let go of the mental demons that drove me to such a selfish act. Although from time to time, loneliness and the ghosts of melancholy pull at the threads of my sanity, the consuming evil that is depression has never again taken such a strong hold, and I am thankful not to have died. But I cannot forget that my actions didn't just hurt myself. I hurt those around me. Especially my mother.

In my head, I watched the event unfold feeling guilt and disgust. I saw a younger version of myself alone in a hospital room kneeling in a pool of blood, with two open wounds on my arms. It looked like I had only just realised what was going on. I looked at the blood and screamed. The door of the room burst open and two mediwitches gasped at the sight. I stood up and held my bloodied arms out at them.

"Help James! Someone has cursed me!" I shouted at one the mediwitches, who recoiled at my emaciated blood-stained form. I grabbed the witch by the shoulders and shook her, my eyes wide and frantic and my skin completely white.

"Please Mr Lupin..." The witch said as my blood spilt onto her robes. The poor witch was pale with shock and seemed like she might be sick.

"Why are you calling me that?" I asked. The second witch stepped forward, slipping slightly on the blood on the floor and grabbed me by the shoulders and tried to direct me towards the bed.

"Get away from me! Get away from me traitor!" I spat to this second which.

"It's alright Mr Lupin, you must lie down." The witch said. I stumbled and swayed obviously feeling dizzy from the amount of blood I had lost, but I resisted the witch.

"No! No!" I insisted. "You did this! How could you?"

"Please, we want to help you." The witch said pulling me towards the bed. I pushed her away and stumbled backwards.

"No get away from me!" I yelled, throwing my arms out wildly splattering blood across the room. Suddenly my mother ran through the door. Her face turned white at the sight of her child covered in his own blood.

"Oh God Remus!" She cried, tears immediately starting to stream from her eyes. The witch took me by the arms again and I tried to push her away, but I was too weak. My mother stepped towards me to help the witch, while the second witch took her wand from her robes ready to sedate me.

"Help me! Sirius – he killed them – he cursed me!" I said to my mother.

"No, honey, please calm down." She said putting her hands on my face.

"We are not safe!" I said to her again before falling once again to my knees.

"You are quite safe, do not worry." My mother insisted. "Let the nurses do their job."

"We need to get a healer in here now." One of the witches said to the other.

"What happened?" I asked my mother, my eyes vacant and confused. "Who did this?"

"Oh," My mother said, her voice breaking with desolation, "you did Remus. You did it."

"Do you remember how heartbroken your mother's face looked when she told you that! When she told you that _you_ were responsible!" Leohnard shouted at me. He leant over me when he spoke, he was close enough that one swipe of my claws would cut him in two, but he was not at all afraid. And rightly so, he had reduced me to a hopeless shame-filled wreck. The strength and viciousness of my werewolf's body was useless under the control of a weak human mind.

"That is why Nymphadora will never be yours!" Leohnard cried with glee. "You will only hurt her just like you hurt everyone else!" Leohnard gave another high pitched laugh at having defeated a werewolf single-handedly, without even lifting a finger. Leohnard turned away from me and took a deep breath. Perhaps he was deciding to return to his court, to see how their massacre of the humans was coming along. I felt another shudder of sadness and guilt that I had been unable to stop it. Then I let out a howl as I thought that Tonks might already be dead. Leohnard turned back to me.

"She is not dead yet Lupin." He said, apparently still able to read my thoughts. My wolf's eyes looked back at the vampire's. Leohnard smiled again. "My court would have seen me try to bite her before, and so would have realised that I picked her out as mine. They will not touch her. Instead they will keep her for me." As Leohnard boasted about how Tonks was to be his victim, the guilt that had been deluging my mind ebbed and anger began to replace it.

"I didn't know aurors would be there," Leohnard remarked casually, "I only intended to kill the Death Eaters tonight. Finding a pretty auror to feast on was a nice surprise..."

I leapt from the ground onto Leohnard's back. He collapsed under my weight and tried to wriggle away from me. But I pinned him down and swiped my claws across his face. Huge red cuts appeared there and Leohnard cried out in pain, but the cuts quickly healed without leaving any scars, as a vampire's regenerative power was great enough to heal even wounds inflicted by a werewolf. I pushed one paw onto Leohnard's neck and pushed down, letting my claws sink centimetres into his skin, and growled. Leohnard looked back at me, his green eyes suddenly not so bright. He might be able to magically heal cuts, but would he be able to survive decapitation? Leohnard looked frightened for the first time. And the wolf growled with excitement. I held the wolf back, but it was difficult as my human consciousness too now wanted to cause the vampire harm. I let the claws of the paw that pushed against Leohnard's chest press into his skin, and Leohnard gave a splutter of pain. Did he really think he could use my past against me like that? Did he really think that I would give up just because I have made mistakes? Did he really think my insecurity was so great that it would stop me protecting my friends? I pushed harder on Leohnard's neck and he gasped as my weight crushed him.

_Kill him! Kill him!_ The wolf screamed. Oh, it would be so easy! My human mind however, hesitated. Could I really consciously kill someone as a wolf? Killing someone with the Avada Kedavra seemed easier. It was less brutal, less savage. Leohnard took advantage of my hesitancy and reached for his knife. He plunged it into my side, which made me jump back in pain. Leohnard scrambled to his feet while I howled and tried in vain to reach the knife with my mouth. I quickly gave up trying to pull it out. Instead I pounced on Leohnard again with the knife still in my body. I captured him with teeth and threw him onto the ground. Leohnard lay injured on the ground and I circled around him, still not sure whether I could let the wolf kill him. But then Leohnard whistled. The high-pitched whistle was so loud to my wolf's ears that I growled and shut my eyes.

When I opened them I was surrounded by Leohnard's entire court. The vampires bared their teeth, and flashed daggers and maces. They had come to protect their leader from the werewolf. I raised my hackles and roared at them, but they didn't seem frightened. Instead they advanced towards me with their daggers raised. Panic rushed through me. I could not fight them all! They would kill me for sure! Flashes of all the things I would miss if I died filled my mind. My home in Ireland, Harry and his friends, Sirius and Tonks. I would never see them again. The vampires were so close now and ready to attack. There was only one way I might survive: I had to give the wolf full control of my body. The moonlight glinted of the points of the vampires' teeth and daggers and with a howl I surrendered to the bloodlust of my alter ego.

I hope that things in this chapter didn't seem too out of character for Lupin. But I always imagined him as an immensely complex man.

I don't usually ask for reviews, but I'm particularly anxious about this chapter so it would be really great if you could let me know what you think.


	29. The Wrong Place At The Wrong Time

Okay, guys recap of last chapter:

Lupin dissaparated with Leohnard and lands somewhere in the forrest in Germany. Lupin is temporarily debilitated by his transformation and during this time Leohnard forced Lupin to relive his most shameful memories, including a suicide attempt of his and some dreams he has had of Tonks. Lupin's human mind is almost defeated by the shame, so that even though he's in wolf-form now, he's powerless. But them Leohnard starts bragging about how he's going to kill Tonks, and Lupn attacks him. Leohnard calls for the rest of his vampire court though, and then Lupin-the-wolf has to fight of an entire court. The only way he can survive is to let the wolf have full control of his body.

Right next chapter: This one was a tricky one.

Chapter 29

The next thing I remember, is a strong smell of grass and mud, and the feel of cold air against my naked body. I lay awkwardly on my front, on damp leaf-littered grass. I could hear birds singing and a river somewhere close by. I felt agony in every part of my body, and my chest seemed to catch fire with every breath. I slowly opened my eyes. Half of what I saw was apple-green grass speckled with yellow diamonds, above that the trunks of the pine trees were silhouetted against a sky of gleaming gold. I lay still and cried. Half from relief that I was still alive, half because of the tremendous pain I was in. After my sobs had subsided, although I didn't want to, I tried to move.

I pushed my arms into the soft ground and pushed my trembling body upwards. I turned sideways and cried out as the pain in my chest spiralled into torturous throbs. Eventually I managed to manoeuvre myself into a sitting position. I examined the damage. Blood and mud was smeared all over me, and my entire chest was covered with dark purple bruises. There were numerous defensive gashes on my arms and two stab wounds, one on my abdomen that didn't go very deep and one quite nasty looking one on my thigh. I very carefully felt the left side of my chest and decided that at least one rib on that side had been broken. I did not remember very clearly what happened during the night, as, out of fear, I let the wolf have complete control over my body and I suspect, out of disgust, my own consciousness committed none of the violent events to memory. But it was obvious from my injuries that the vampires had tried very hard to kill me. I suspect they had stabbed me more than twice, and probably had broken more bones, but those wounds must have healed during my transformation back into a man, leaving only the most serious injuries. It was a shame that the energy of a transformation didn't heal _all_ wounds rather than just the less serious ones.

I wondered how many of them I had killed. I wouldn't be alive if I didn't kill at least some of them. I felt absolute abhorrence at the thought that I was the creature that had done that. I looked at the river in front of me and at the trees that surrounded me. I had no idea where I was. The closest available help could be miles away, and I was far too weak to apparate so I would have to walk. I let my face fall into my hands. I felt so battered and tired and abused.

"This is not fair!" I shouted to no-one. It hurt to shout but I felt so angry I couldn't help it. Why did this have to happen to me? It wasn't often that I react this way to my condition. But sitting naked, injured and alone lost somewhere in the German countryside, I desired nothing more than to tear apart whomever was responsible for the state my life was in. Eventually I calmed down, and remembered that while I was in a difficult situation, I was lucky to be alive.

I knew that the river flowed south and that the place where I had apparated with Leohnard last night was north of the Death Eaters' cabin, so I decided to follow the river south and hope that I came across someone who could help me. With tremendous effort I heaved myself off the ground and stood up. I grit my teeth and limped towards the river. I waded into the water a few steps and slowly washed off some of the mud and blood. It was a fairly futile endeavour as, while the cuts on my arms had started to clot, both the stab wounds were still bleeding, and the blood stains I washed off were quickly replaced. But, at least with the mud off me I looked more like a human and less like a cave man. I carefully climbed back onto the river bank, and looked around for a large stick I could use as a crutch. It didn't take me that long to find one, but in that short time I had become extremely cold. It was probably about 15 degrees Celsius, which would be quite pleasant if I were clothed, but I was completely naked, wet, probably with a low blood pressure. I shivered and my teeth chattered as if I were in the arctic. I leant against the stick and took several deep breaths before slowly starting to walk with the river.

That walk through Germany was probably the longest walk of my life. Every step aggravated the wound on my thigh and my broken rib, and every step sucked more of my energy from me. To make matters worse, the only thing my mind seemed able to think about was what Leohnard had made me think about the night before. I thought about my mother, and how much my suicide attempt had hurt her. She suffered so much because of me. She spent weeks by my bed while I was in hospital, begging me to eat, coaxing me out of bed. And for weeks I was completely uncooperative; I was Hell to be around, but she stuck with me. But for what reason? What reward did she ever get for that? I think seeing how upset she was when I tried to kill myself, and how relieved she was when I survived, might have been the trigger for my recovery. I didn't want to hurt her anymore, so I began to take responsibility for my own life again. And eventually I realised that I could be happy again, it would just take effort and time. As I hobbled through the forrest it was hard to remember that that was true, that in fact happiness is always attainable, that there is always something to live for. As I walked through the forest, cold, alone and in an enormous amount of pain, I struggled to think what it was I was living for. Not success: I was unemployed and likely to remain so, and really quite terrible at the tasks Dumbledore set me; and certainly not love: Leohnard was right, all I ever did was hurt those close to me, I was too dangerous to ever do otherwise.

After an indeterminable amount of time, which could have been hours or could have been years, I was finding it very difficult to carry on. The pain in my leg and chest was making me feel nauseous and my head was spinning. I leant against a tree and groaned and muttered to myself. I looked towards the river, in the hope that there would be some sign that I was close to civilisation. I did see something. A body. It was lying on the river bank, partially obscured by the long grass.

"Hello?" I called, but the body didn't stir. I slowly limped towards it. As I got closer it became obvious that the person was dead. The man's throat had been ripped open and his head was tilted at an unnatural angle. It was a grotesque sight, but regrettably I was used to grotesque sights. I didn't recognise the man, but I guessed he was a Death Eater that had been killed by a vampire. I leant over him and looked for his wand. I saw it sticking out from underneath his elbow. I extended my hand above it and said "accio wand". The wand jumped from the ground and into my hand. I used the wand to magically pull the Death Eater out of his robes. It felt wrong to rob a dead man of his clothes, but I really had little choice.

"Wingardium leviosa," I said once the Death Eater's outer garment was free of his body enchanting it to hang in the air while I cleaned the blood off it. It was rather an ugly piece of clothing; long and black with dragon tooth buttons all down the front. Once it was clean I reached out and took it in my hands, then put the robes over my freezing form. I sighed at how much better it felt to be clothed. Then I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to gather some energy to walk onwards. But I had no energy left to gather. I thought about just lying down on the ground and sleeping for a while; perhaps someone would find me. But I didn't know how much longer I could survive with these wounds untreated. I might die before anyone found me. I opened my eyes and struggled to focus them. Then I saw a woman looking at me. My exhausted mind felt overwhelmed when I saw her. She also looked overwhelmed. Her face was pale, her eyes deep blue and her hair light brown. We stood several feet away from each other and I received her silent stare with an anxious heart. She raised her wand and pointed it at me. I held my breath, not sure whether she was about to curse me, kill me or save me.

"Expelliarmus!" She said. Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper but so strong. It was only a disarming spell, but she made my heart race. The Death Eater's wand was stolen from my hand calmly but indomitably. Nymphadora Tonks caught the wand effortlessly and silence fell between us again.

"I didn't know." She said eventually. Her sorceress' strength had left her voice; now it was quiet and shaking. "I mean, I had heard the rumours...but I..." I couldn't tell whether she was afraid or heartbroken. My heart tightened, as either possibility was painful. I hated that she could never see me the same way now. I hated that she had found out in such a frightening way. She had _seen_ me. She had seen me at my most vulnerable. She had seen me in my horrific half-transformed state.

"This is not...I..." I mumbled, unable to really say anything as I felt so exposed. There was another period of silence while I looked down at the blood that was dribbling over my foot.

"Are you okay?" Tonks asked me, her voice so gentle and kind, which felt so strange to me. Was she not afraid of me now that she knew? Was she not suspicious of me?

"N-no," I said, as more emotions than I could recognise deluged my mind, "I..." I held out an arm to try and convey what was wrong, but the movement made my whole body tremble. Tonks rushed towards me. She put one arm around me, so that her shoulder slotted under my arm, and she put her other hand on my chest so that she could steady me. Without conscious intent I leant against her and moaned slightly.

"Here, wait a moment..." She murmured then she conjured a stretcher. She guided me towards it and helped me lie down on it. Once I was lying down, I closed my eyes in relief. I felt Tonks take my pulse, then put one hand gently on my face. I opened my eyes to look at her. She looked so worried for me.

"Can you show me what is wrong? Then maybe I can help." Tonks said. I nodded slowly and pointed to my right thigh. Tonks parted the Death Eater's robes that I wore carefully so that she could examine the wound.

"Oh Jesus..." She breathed when she saw how much blood there was. "Did vampires do this to you?"

"Yes." I croaked from the stretcher. "When I dissaparated with Leohnard, the rest of his court followed to protect him from me."

"I did wonder if that's where they disappeared to." Tonks said, looking closely at my stabbed leg. She raised my knee slightly, causing me to grunt with pain, she gave me an apologetic look and pointed her wand to my leg. "This is beyond my healing capabilities, I'll just have to bandage it. _Fascia_!"

White bandages flew from her wand and wrapped themselves tightly around my thigh. It hurt as they tightened around my leg, but once the bandage was in place I felt some relief. I let my eyes close again and took several laboured breaths while Tonks folded my robes back over my leg.

"Anywhere else?" Tonks asked me. I opened my eyes and nodded and put one hand on my chest. Tonks bit her lip and began to unbutton the top half of my robes. I felt quite embarrassed as she silently undressed me, and I'm quite sure Tonks was aware of this; but she dutifully ignored my embarrassment and I dutifully suppressed it. She didn't say anything when she revealed all the bruises across my ribcage and the stab wound at my waist, but she looked like she might bite right through her own lip.

"I'll have to lift you a little bit to get the bandage around you." She said quietly. I didn't say anything. Tonks waved her wand over me and with a localised levitation charm she raised my torso a few inches. I hissed air through my teeth at the discomfort this caused me. But my pain was soon forgotten when Tonks pushed the robes off my shoulders a bit so that they hung loosely from my elbows, then slid one arm underneath me, on the inside of the robes. My breathing hastened at this sudden infringement of personal space. I could not get over how it felt to her hair brushing against my shoulder, her arm against my back, her bare palm against my shoulder blade. That feeling especially I could not forget, of her warm skin against my own. She reduced the strength of the charm that was pulling me up so that more of my weight rested on her arm. The only reason I could think of as to why she would do this, was because resting against something was more comfortable for me than being pulled up by a charm. I stared at her, completely taken aback by her thoughtfulness. I worried that this wasn't real, that blood loss had caused me to hallucinate; as surely she would never get so close to a werewolf, and be so kind, unless I was dreaming. But then Tonks cast another bandaging charm, and bandages whipped around my waist pressing against the stab wound, and my doubts about the authenticity of my situation were thwarted as surely pain would not be so acute if I were dreaming. I groaned and slammed my eyes shut.

"Wait – I know a good pain reducing charm." Tonks said as she tightened her hold on my to keep me still. She put her wand to my temple and murmured a charm I couldn't quite hear. I could feel the breath of her words on my lips though and it was agonisingly wonderful. In just a few seconds the piercing pain reduced to a rough ache and I opened my eyes. Tonks face was so close to mine. I could see every eyelash, and the tiny red marks on her bottom lip where she had bitten it. I could see so many details, but I could not read her expression. Even when I looked right into her eyes I could not tell what she was thinking. I could sense that she found this proximity strange, but I do not think she found it unpleasant or uncomfortable.

"Are you afraid of me?" I asked in a whisper.

"No." She replied. Her eyes moved over my face coming to rest at my mouth for a few moments.

"Thank you for saving me." She said quietly, her eyes drifting back up to mine.

"You're welcome." I replied. "Thank you for...this." Tonks' liked her lips then very gently lowered me back onto the stretcher. Tonks buttoned up my robes again, then looked back at my face. She looked so serious and so sad, but I couldn't work out why. Was I dying? I knew I had lost a lot of blood – it was starting to get difficult to stay awake, and I was loosing feeling in my hands and feet – but surely Tonks was going to take me to hospital now, and then I would be fine. Was I wrong to place this trust in her?

"I have to ask you a question." She said. I said nothing, but felt very confused. "Why were you here?" Why was she asking this now?

"I was working." I replied simply.

"Working at what?" Tonks asked. I said nothing for a bit, not sure whether I should tell her the truth that I was spying on the Death Eaters for Dumbledore.

"I'd rather not say." I said instead. Tonks sighed and looked more heartbroken than ever then nodded.

"I'm going to take you to St Mungo's now." She said. "We have a portkey ready..." The rest of what Tonks said was lost on me, as I could no longer stay awake. I watched Tonks speak to me without hearing what was said, then I lost consciousness.

When I next awoke, a lot had changed. I was in St Mungo's, I was warm again, magic was healing my wounds, I was sore but not in nearly so much pain as before and I could also move without feeling dizzy.

I saw that the clock on the wall said that it was 9.30 am and that the whether was cloudy with a chance of rain. I appeared to be in a private room which I thought was slightly odd, as normally only people with contagious diseases, life-threatening injuries, or a lot of money got to have private rooms. Maybe I was more injured than I thought. I saw that there was some water beside my bed so I had a sip. I felt my usual post-full-moon blues, but mostly I wanted to know exactly what had happened. Did any of the aurors die? Did they catch any of the Death Eaters? Or were they all killed? Did I kill Leohnard? What was going to happen to me now that the aurors knew I was there and a werewolf? Was Faustus alright?

I saw the bell that is used to call a mediwitch and thought about ringing it, but then I saw a uniformed man standing at the doorway of my room. I recognised the uniform as that which Hit Wizards wore, and bit my lip.

"Excuse me." I called to him. "Sir? Hello?" The hit wizard heard me and turned to look through the glass pannel on the door to my hospital room. I beckoned for him to come inside. The hit wizard held up one finger to indicate that I should wait, then he got a pocket watch out of his breast pocket and tapped it with his wand and spoke into it. I watched him do this all the time wondering what was going on. When he had finished speaking to his watch the hit wizard entered my room.

"You wanted me Mr Lupin." He said with excessive severity.

"Um yes." I said, pulling myself up in the bed slightly. "What is going on?"

"You are under arrest, Mr Lupin." The hit wizard said.

"I am?" I questioned.

"Yes. For conspiring with the Death Eaters in Germany." The hit wizard informed me. "The auror who arrested you did tell you this." The hit wizard added, narrowing his eyes at me. I licked my lips and thought for a moment, I had to be careful what I said.

"Which auror arrested me?" I asked, though I already knew who.

"Nymphadora Tonks." The hit wizard replied.

"I see." I said, rubbing my right eyebrow. Maybe this was what she seemed so upset about: she thought I was a Death Eater.

"I've told the auror department that you are awake, so they will be here shortly to explain to you what will happen." The hit wizard said. He waited to see if I had any more questions, then when I didn't say anything he left. I rubbed my eyebrow and left beck on my pillows. Presumably the only reason I was here instead of in Azkaban was because of my injuries. I was being charged with conspiring with Death Eaters...which meant the aurors didn't know I was there spying on them. I could admit that that's what I was doing I suppose, and the evidence Fautus and I had gathered would help prove it. However, the ministry would not be happy with me carrying out unofficial espionage. The legality of it is a bit of a grey area. Up till now, I have been thinking of it as illegal, but really I think it is more that the ministry just didn't like people like Dumbledore taking the law into their own hands. I needed to speak to someone who had a better understanding of wizarding law. I was allowed to have someone represent me in my trial, but I couldn't afford to employ anyone, and I don't know anyone would volunteer to represent me for free. Well, maybe Dumbledore would...but I could never ask him.

Suddenly I saw a mediwitch and two aurors outside my door – one of which was that enigmatic Tonks. The mediwitch seemed to be scolding Tonks and the other auror. It amused me to see Tonks stare petulantly and arrogantly at the witch that was telling her off. Apparently the aurors lost the argument because they were forced to wait outside while the mediwitch entered my room.

"Good morning Mr Lupin, how are you feeling today?" The witch asked me professionally.

"Much better thank you." I replied.

"Some aurors are here to speak to you. Typical they should arrive just when I'm due to check your dressings, but there we go." The witch said. Then she checked my heart rate and temperature and white blood cell count etc all at the same time with a silver contraption with all sort of knobs and buttons on it that made a whirring sound when she passed it over my chest.

"Everything looks fine though, so I'll check your dressings after they've gone." The mediwitch told me as she put the silver thing back in her pocket. "Can I get you anything? Some breakfast? Water?"

"Er, some breakfast would be nice, thank you." I said.

"Very well, I'll bring some when I come back." She said briskly. The mediwitch left and I saw her give a haughty look at the aurors as she passed them. Then Tonks and the other auror entered.

"Good Morning Mr Lupin." The male auror said, "I am John Dawlish." I already knew this but I nodded anyway.

"And I believe you already know Nymphadora -" Tonks rolled her eyes and shuddered "-

Tonks." I looked at Tonks inquisitively wondering why the hell she arrested me, but Tonks just avoided my eyes.

"Yes," I affirmed, "Apparently I'm under arrest?" Again I flicked my eyes to Tonks, and again she avoided my gaze.

"Yes." Dawlish said. My eyes darted back to the silver-haired auror. "Tonks found you last night in Germany, and quite rightly, arrested you for conspiring with the Death Eaters. However, I have been informed that you have no recollection of this event is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Alright, in that case I'll tell you your rights again." Dawlish said with a sigh. He looked very tired, so did Tonks in fact. "Remus Lupin, you are under arrest for conspiring to commit acts of terrorism. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you say may be given in evidence. You have the right to be represented by another witch or wizard. Do you understand these rights?"

"Yes." I said.

"Since you are injured, you will be held here in St Mungo's with a Hit Wizard guarding the door twenty four hours a day." Dawlish continued. "A trial has not yet been scheduled, but we will tell you when it is. We need to conduct a proper interview with you, but the mediwitch _insists_ that it should wait until tomorrow when you're more recovered. In the meantime, Tonks here wants to talk to you." Dawlish jerked his thumb at Tonks who looked a little sheepish.

"I'm going to get a coffee." Dawlish announced before he stomped out of the room muttering to himself. He let the door slam behind him then Tonks and I were alone. I looked questioningly at her.

"He's cross because we were up all night trying to sort out this mess." Tonks explained. There was a long awkward silence between us while Tonks hovered at the end of my bed and fiddled with the sleeve of her robes. Then suddenly she looked right at me, her face full of apology and said, "Look, I _had_ to arrest you."

Then she began to blurt out why she had arrested me all the while gesticulating wildly and looking at my with imploring eyes. She looked so pretty when she was all frantic.

"I could think of no other reason why you would be there if you weren't working for the Death Eaters – I didn't really know what to think, because I know you would never consort with people so horrible, but _why else would you be there_? That's why I asked you, and when you said you'd rather not say, what was I supposed to think! And on top that that, you are – well you know what you are – we knew the Death Eaters were out recruiting vampires, and well...I worried that that were recruiting you too."

Tonks looked back down at her hands and fiddled with her sleeve again.

"I wanted to let you go...but you were so injured that I had to take you back to where the others were, and...if I didn't arrest you they would have..."

"It's fine Tonks. I understand." I said gently. Tonks looked back up at me and licked her lips.

"They weren't recruiting you were they? You weren't working with them?" She asked, her voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

"No." I insisted. "I would _never_..."

"I know." Tonks said with a sigh of relief. "I just had to check." There was a brief silence in which time I thought carefully about what Tonks had said. I understood how she had no choice but to arrest me: I was nearby the Death Eater's hideout when I had no obvious reason to be, I was a dark creature of the kind Death Eaters were likely to recruit, and I refused to tell her why I was really there. But she seemed so upset by the idea that I was working for the Death Eaters, she seemed quite determined that I wasn't one despite the facts against me. I didn't quite know how to react to her faith in me. I also didn't know what to think of the fact that she had wanted to let me go. What did that mean? Was it just an affirmation that she trusted that I was innocent, or did it mean something else?

"What were you doing there?" Tonks asked me. Again I was not sure what I should say, but espionage is not as bad as conspiracy to commit acts of terrorism.

"I was there spying on the Death Eaters." I admitted after a long pause. Tonks took a deep breath.

"Well, as long as you didn't make contact with them, that's not illegal. But it's still a bit dodgy." Tonks said looking curiously at me. "Who were you working for?" I gave Tonks a 'do you really expect me to tell you that' look and Tonks smiled.

"Alright alright." Tonks said. "They wont believe you anyway." Tonks sighed deeply and walked around to the side of my bed.

"I had to tell them what you are. I didn't want to, but they questioned me about it directly because they knew I was the last to see you before you dissaparated; and they already suspected because of the rumours about you when you left Hogwarts."

"It's alright Tonks." I reassured.

"It's not though. _I_ know that your being a...a werewolf has nothing to do with anything, but...it's going to count against you."

"It usually does." I said smiling slightly in spite of myself.

"In truth, we _don't_ have enough evidence against you. The vampire's burnt down the Death Eater's shack so we can't really prove that you weren't just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, Finley's going to get off for the same reason, and he _is_ guilty. That's why Dawlish is so pissed."

I suddenly remembered that Faustus and I had a recording of Finley admitting that he killed two muggles, but I didn't mention it. I would find some way of getting this evidence to Tonks though.

"Was Finley the only one you arrested?"

"Yeah. The Carrows escaped in the battle, the one the German aurors were after, Nagel - he was killed, so was Robin. As for the rest I don't really know."

"Were any aurors killed?"

"No. Dawlish got his ear bitten off – pretty nasty, but it grew back." Tonks told me. "Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, _it doesn't matter_ that there isn't enough evidence showing you were working with the Death Eaters, as far as Umbridge is concerned being a werewolf automatically makes you guilty."

"Umbrigde?"

"She's the undersecretary to the minister for magic. Technically she has nothing to do with law enforcement, but she sticks her podgy little nose into everything, and has a massive issue with anyone who's...um...like you. She's not just going to want to send you to Azkaban, she'll want to have you killed."

"But, as you said, Umbridge has nothing to do with law enforcement." I reasoned.

"Yeah, but I reckon she has power over some members of the wizengamot, and they'll be trying you." Tonks looked so anxious for me that I wanted to kiss her. How could one person be so kind? And to a werewolf!

"Don't worry." I told her. "Dumbledore knows me well, and he will counteract any prejudice the other members of the wizengamot might have." Tonks suddenly laughed.

"Look at you, reassuring _me_ when you are the one being tried." Tonks said, and I smiled. The prospect of being incarcerated for a crime I didn't commit was worrying me of course, but my anxiety seemed to pale in comparison to everything else I was feeling. Mostly I was so astonished that Tonks was on my side even though she knew what I was. Yes, she had difficulty saying the W word, but she wasn't holding it against me. And she was treating me fairly even after she had seen how horrific and ugly a werewolf was.

She fluffed her bubble gum pink hair, that looked so perfect on her, and gave me a 'what are you looking at?' grin. I said nothing, I just smiled back like an idiot.

"Riiight." She said narrowing her bright blue eyes at me. "I'm going to go now, I'll be back tomorrow with Dawlish because we have to interview you, and let you know when your trial is. Do you have anyone that can represent you?"

"Um, no." I said. "But, I'm allowed to write a letter aren't I?"

"Yes, you are allowed to write one."

"I know someone who might help me."

Tonks bid me goodbye and was about to leave when I remembered I had lost my wand.

"Tonks." I called, she turned back around to look at me, "did anyone find my wand? I dropped it before I transformed."

"Yes, we have it. But you can't have it back yet." Tonks told me. "It's a funny wand you have. Proudfoot picked it up in the office last night thinking it was his, tried to turn on the lamps with it and it turned his ears into onions." Tonks grinned at the memory and I gave a sheepish smile.

"It's very territorial." I said by way of explanation. Tonks nodded and gave me one last smile before leaving me alone. I lay back in my bed and took several long slow deep breaths. Why did I do this to myself? It was disgusting that I was attracted to someone so much younger than me, and frustrating that my feelings would be eternally unrequited. You'd think I would learn. After years – decades even – of falling for unattainable women, you'd think I'd stop doing it. But apparently my heart was a complete masochist.

What do you think of Tonks? I know you've only seen a little bit of her ( you will soon see a lot more) and you've only seen her from Lupins (sometimes quite warped) point of view, but what do you think?


	30. The Four Champions

I hope you guys are still enjoying this story! I hope I've not ruined it *worried face*

Much love to quiet but faithful followers, I promise to reward you with some killer scenes and plot twists to come! Chapter 30 though, is a bit boring…sorry.

Chapter 30

I stood in the atrium of the ministry of magic looking at the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Ministry officials walked past me in their smart robes with their suitcases without pausing to look at me or the fountain. My best robes looked very flea-bitten and threadbare in comparison to those of the employees. I had shined my boots and even brought my hat today, only to be told by Dumbledore that it was no longer fashionable for men under fifty to wear pointed hats. I was given fashion advice from Dumbledore! Actually, that wasn't that weird: Dumbledore was a very smart dresser. I chuckled at my own thoughts and looked up at the wizard of the fountain. That statue was supposed to represent all wizards, but he didn't represent me. The centaur was probably closer – or maybe it was the house elf, disrespected, subservient, mistreated; but even house elves had a place in wizarding society. I don't think any part of that fountain represented me. There was no space for a half-bood half-human.

They had put the chains on me in my trial. The iron shackles that were attacked to that horribly uncomfortable chair in the middle of the courtroom. I had gone in my best robes out of respect to the wizengamot, and they put me in chains!

"Are these really necessary?" I had asked as I rattled them defiantly.

"You are being charged with conspiracy to commit acts of terrorism and are a werewolf: yes they are necessary." A plump woman with a squished nose and a wide mouth said while she scribbled things in her ledger with a pink feathered quill. I glared at her but then Amelia Bones, who was presiding, spoke.

"It's standard procedure for defendants accused of crimes as serious as the ones your being accused of." She told me in a matter of fact, but also slightly apologetic tone. "Shall we get on?"

I was asked questions about what I was doing in Germany, what happened the night the vampires attacked etc. I answered all truthfully as Tonks advised me that the worst the ministry could do to me for being a spy was put me on a list of people to watch. As Tonks predicted, most of the wizengamot struggled to believe me.

"May I say something?" The woman with the wide mouth said in an insipid and falsely polite tone to Amelia Bones. Ms Bones gave a discreet sigh then nodded.

"Mr Lupin," The woman said before giving a little highpitched cough, "can you confirm for the wizengamot that you are, in fact, a werewolf?"

I paused at looked at the austere faces of those who were judging me.

"That is correct. I am a werewolf." I said proudly.

"A werewolf who has not signed the ministry's werewolf registry?" The wide-mouthed woman, who I had guessed was the Miss Umbridge that Tonks had mentioned.

"That is also correct." I confirmed.

"There are two things we can deduce from that," Umbridge continued with a small ugly smile playing at her thin lips, "Firstly, it demonstrates a certain contempt for the ministry and its protocols; and secondly, seeing as the Werewolf Support Service is their for your own benefit, I can only presume that you, like many others in your position, would rather spurn the wizarding world than be a part of it. Given this, it seems very strange to me that you would spy on Death Eaters in order to find out information that could help protect wizarding kind. It seems far more likely to me that, if you weren't in fact already one of them, then you were spying on them only so that you might learn how to gain their favour so that you could join them."

Umbridge ceased her revoltingly offensive accusations.

"I did not sign the werewolf registry because I do not believe, as you contended, that the Werewolf Support Service is for my benefit." I argued when she had finished. "I have researched the program extensively, and I do not think that the program helps werewolves integrate with wizarding society at all. In fact I think the program does just the opposite. It brands us as dangerous creatures and teaches us that we are less able than others for certain jobs; to name just two of it's failings. And, contrary to what you have said, I do not wish to 'spurn the wizarding world' or work for Death Eaters."

"Currently it is your word against the facts, Mr Lupin." Umbridge said giving a satisfied smile.

"I believe I have the right to call a witness?" I said before the wretched woman could carry on. At this point Dumbledore stepped forward and told the court that I was in Germany working for him. Dumbledore also mentioned the occasions where I had assisted aurors in the capture of Death Eaters in the past. Umbridge was still not convinced and suggested court adjourn and resume when the wizengamot had permission to give me veriteserum, sending me to Azkaban for the intervening time. But Amelia Bones announced that that would waste the court's time and called for the wizengamot to make their verdict. I was found not guilty.

Unfortunately Finley also walked free. Dumbledore said that he would pass on the evidence Faustus and I had gathered to Kingsley Shaklebolt, but by that time Finely would have disappeared I'm sure. I was forced to sign the werewolf registry and, until further notice, I would have to come to the ministry and be confined in one of their cells when I transformed. I was also obligated to take wolfsbane every time, which of course was not objectionable in itself, but it meant that I would have to pay a potions brewer to make some for me every month, with the money that I did not have. I did explain that I was unemployed and therefore would have difficulty paying for wolfsbane, but this didn't seem to concern Umbridge. Worst however was that I was to have the trace put on my for the next month to check that I wasn't running off to hang out with Death Eaters or cursing anyone or anything else werewolves were likely to do.

I waited for Dumbledore to return from level ten at watched water spout of of the witches wand. Presently, I heard Dumbledore's soft deep voice by my side.

"Ready Remus?" He said and I turned to him with a sombre expression. "The wizengamot have returned your wand..." Dumbledore held my dragon heartstring wand to me. I took it, felt relieved to feel it slightly warm underneath my fingers as if it were pleased to be with me again, then slipped it into the loop on my belt.

"Shall we have some lunch? I know a nice little restaurant on Altus street." Dumbledore said pleasantly and I nodded. I knew Dumbledore well enough to know that pleasant social occasions were almost always settings for serious conversations. We walked to the departure fireplaces quietly and I felt the tension.

"I guess, this means you wont be able to assign me to any more reconnaissance missions in the near future." I said my voice solemn and apologetic, although part of me was secretly pleased.

"It certainly means you wont be able to spy on the ministry for me." Dumbledore said hardly moving his lips to say it and giving me a flash of that bloody twinkle in his eye. I gave him a strained smile and we stopped at a fireplace. "After you Remus." I nodded and grabbed a pinch of floo power from the pot on the mantle, threw it in the fire then stepped in.

"Altus Street." I said loudly, and with a spin and a swish I was gone. Altus street is a wizarding street just like Diagon Ally, only a bit smaller and instead of being hidden behind a pub it was hidden behind an old closed down florist. Through a door in the florist's that was marked 'staff only' that could only be opened by three taps of a wand was a large room with a polished wooden floor and stained glass windows. There were two large grand fireplaces in this room both used for floo travel, one for arrivals one for departures. This room was the lobby area of a very exclusive and expensive wizarding hotel called the Liondragon. I arrived in the lobby and stepped out onto the polished wooden floor. I paused to admire the rather spectacular portraits of witches and wizards who encouraged and improved international wizarding co-operation. There was a portrait of Bathilda Bagshot, author of a History of Magic, Felix Summerbee the inventer of Cheering Charms, Almerick Sawbridge who conquered a river troll who lived by the Wye River, and Cliodna the Irish witch who features in celtic folklore as the goddess of beauty. Cliodna (pronounced Cleev-na) was one of my favourite wizarding trading cards when I was younger, partly because she was an animagus who could turn into a bird, though no-one knows what type, and I have always been very fond of birds, and partly because she was drop dead gorgeous and Irish. I looked up at the portrait of her, admiring her long red hair and dress made of peacock feathers. She smiled down at me, then winked, and I grinned. My father told me once that Cliodna never died, she just got stuck in her bird form because a wizard broke her heart and she would remain in her bird form until she fell in love again, and, my father told me, the only way to get Cliodna to fall in love with you was to trust her; this was something wizards found difficult as she was so beautiful and hence had so many admirers. When I was younger I used to watch birds in my garden and hope that they would turn into Cliodna. Merlin! and I wondered why I didn't have a girlfriend until I was twenty two.

"She is beautiful." Came a voice from behind me. I turned and smiled at Dumbledore then we both exited the hotel and wondered down Altus street. Altus street has a lot of restaurants and European style brasseries, and a few night clubs as well; there are a couple shops but they are mostly quirky clothes shops or specialist apothecaries and bookshops. It's a nice little street, but I don't often visit it. You have to be young and trendy – or agelessly cool like Dumbledore – to fit in on this street. Dumbledore lead me to a quaint looking french restaurant whose special was veel in a horklump sauce. Barely two steps into the restaurant and a waiter was already showing us to a table even though I do not think Dumbledore booked one. We sat down and Dumbledore ordered some wine. I practiced in my head the apology I wanted to give him for beings such a hopeless spy, but then I was distracted by the menu. Mussles in a garlic sauce, lamb with onion marmalade, seared cod with caper and lemon butter. I was suddenly starving. Unfortunately I couldn't help but notice the prices. There was no way I could pay for lunch here, not without going into debt and loosing my home in Ireland. I should probably just have the soup.

"Don't worry Remus." Dumbledore said. "See this as a thank you for the work you have done." I opened my mouth, perhaps to say something about how I didn't deserve the generosity, but Dumbledore didn't let me. He was holding is wand at me. I looked at the wand and saw a blue smoke start to emanate from it. I looked up and Dumbledore who was murmuring something in latin. The smoke swirled into the air and drifted towards me then back towards Dumbledore then back to me again, then repeated this a few times. After a moment or two Dumbledore put his want away and the smoke disappeared.

"We will now be able to talk about whatever we want, and anyone listening will think we are talking about this year's transfiguration syllabus." Dumbledore told me with a small smile.

"What spell is that?" I asked him thinking about how useful that spell could be.

"One of my own design." Dumbledore replied. "I can teach it to you at a later date."

"Er, thank you." I said. "And, thank you for lunch."

"Well, you haven't had any of it yet." Dumbledore said as the wine arrived. Dumbledore spoke to waiter normally and I surmised that Dumbledore's spell was intent-sensitive, if we wanted others to understand what we were really saying we only had to intend that that be the case. Dumbledore poured me some wine and I began my speech.

"Thank you for bailing me out." I said, "I know revealing that you had orchestrated an espionage mission without the consent of the ministry will only aggravate tensions between you and the minister. I'm sorry to be cause of that inconvenience, and I'm sorry I found out so little."

"You found out that most of the Death Eater know almost as little about what Voldemort is planning as we do, you learnt that the vampires have nothing to do with his return, and most importantly you found out that Voldemort has a spy in Britain – which is very useful information, even though you might not think so." Dumbledore said. "I take it you haven't managed to read the Daily Prophet in a while?" Dumbledore then added.

"I haven't, no." I replied.

"Well that is probably a good thing, they tend to...bend the truth in that paper." Dumbledore said, looking through his half-moon glasses at the menu.

"What would I have read?" I asked with only a touch of impatience. Dumbledore noticed it however and smiled at me, which made my stomach twist a little. I felt like I was being assessed, or seen for the first time or something.

"In keeping with tradition, we used the Goblet of Fire to chose the champions of each school that will compete in the triwizard tournament. The names were drawn from the Goblet a few days ago, on Hallowe'en. Harry's name came out." Dumbledore told me solemnly.

"What?" I said feeling shock like a punch in the stomach. "But I thought only students over seventeen could enter."

"That is true. And I placed an age line around the Goblet so that only wizards over 17 could put themselves forward as candidates. What's more the Goblet is charmed so that wizards can only put their _own_ name in, not anyone else's."

If Harry put his own name in, then he must have countered Dumbledore's age line. It sounded exactly like something James would do. James would have loved to have been Hogwarts' triwizard champion. He loved competitions and challenges, he loved pushing himself, testing his ability. And of course, James would have loved the attention. A silly thing like not being old enough would not have daunted James. He would have tried to trick the Goblet, and knowing James he wouldn't have rested until he succeeded – or got caught. If Dumbledore had told me: "Guess what Remus? James' name came out of the Goblet!" I would have said "Morgan le Fay! The sneaky git!". But it wasn't James we were talking about, it was Harry, and although he was the spitting image of his dad, he really was quite a different man.

"Even if Harry could have countered your age line, he wouldn't enter himself." I said. "He's not like that."

"I know." Dumbledore agreed. "That is why I am worried. Someone else put Harry's name in. I need to find out why."

"You don't think that someone put his name in the Goblet so that Harry might die during the course of the tournament." I clarified.

"That's what Alastor Moody thought." Dumbledore said, "he suggested that someone hoodwinked the Goblet put Harry's name in under a fourth school so that he would definitely be chosen -"

"Oh, so Harry's not the only competitor from Hogwarts?" I asked.

"No, Cedric Diggory is the champion for Hogwarts – the other champion." Dumbledore confirmed. "Anyway, Alastor is of the opinion that a dark wizard put Harry's name in the Goblet hoping that he would be killed while competing. He even insinuated that Igor Karkaroff was that dark wizard."

"The headmaster of Durmstrang?"

"The very same."

"Well he was a Death Eater, but surely he wouldn't try something like that right under your nose? We all know his history, we'd suspect him first."

"Mm."

"So you do not agree with Moody?"

"No. I do not think the person who put Harry's name in the Goblet did so in the hope that he might die in the tournament. Although people have died in the tournament in years gone by, the rules of the tournament are not so magically binding that I wouldn't be able to intervene and save Harry if need be. And, whoever put Harry's name into the Goblet was clever enough to hoodwink it and is therefore clever enough to know that I will not let Harry come into any life-threatening danger."

"So they must have put harry's name in for some other reason." I finished.

"Exactly. And now that I know that Voldemort has a spy in Britain, I can't help but worry that it was this spy who put Harry's name in the Goblet."

"Why would Voldemort want Harry competing the triwizard tournament." I asked.

"That is exactly what I need to find out."

I looked closely at the old man and saw the frown lines between his eyebrows. A lifetime of worries resided in those lines, things he had seen things he had done. I didn't like to see those lines. I didn't like to think of Dumbledore as someone who gets tired. Dumbledore was the only one who could lead us. He was the only man I knew who truly understood the social tensions between magical an non-magical people and between humans and half-humans; he was the only man who seemed to understand why Voldemort did what he did and how he managed to persuade others to follow him; he was the only man I trusted to know what to do if Voldemort returned. However, although I trusted Dumbledore, I didn't always agree with him.

"You going to allow Harry to compete aren't you?" I said not hiding my disapproval.

"Minerva also thought that I should not let Harry do this. She said he was too young and it would be too dangerous for him."

"Well, she is right."

"If I tell Harry not to compete, I will not find out why someone wanted to enter him in the first place." Dumbledore said looking directly at me. I felt my stomach twist again, as I got the impression that Dumbledore genuinely wanted my opinion on the matter. I paused to consider what Dumbledore had said: he wanted to let Harry compete to see what happens, so that it might become obvious why someone wanted to enter his name. I understood Dumbledore's reasons for wanting to see what happened, but I still didn't agree.

"Have you talked to Harry about it?" I asked. "Have you explained to Harry why you want him to compete?"

"No, I don't want to frighten him." Dumbledore said. "Even if the reason someone put his name in the Goblet is _not_ so that he might die in the tournament I doubt it was to bring Harry more fame and prestige."

"Of course not." I agreed. "But that's why you should tell him. He has no idea what danger he is in. You have to explain to him that you want him to compete so that you can find out why someone wanted him to, you have to give him the option to say no. It's the only fair thing."

Dumbledore considered me carefully.

"I think he would say yes." I said after I felt the silence had been too long. "He's brave, and he trust you."

"I'm sure he would say yes. But only because I don't think he would really appreciate the danger he might be putting himself in." Dumbledore said. "I don't want to tell him everything yet. He's too young."

At this I had no more to say. I still thought that keeping Harry so in the dark was wrong, but I agreed that at fourteen, I would not want to learn that my parents were killed because Voldemort thought I was a threat to him, because he had heard a prophecy naming me as the only wizard that could defeat him. I didn't know all the details myself, all I knew was what Dumbledore and James had told me years ago. I knew that Dumbledore had interviewed Sibyll Trelawney for the post of Divination teacher and during this interview she had made a prediction, one that named Harry as 'the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'; but someone overheard the prediction, a spy of Voldemort's and so Voldemort found out about the prophecy and set about to destroy this threat. Dumbledore got wind from someone, though I don't know who, that Voldemort was after Harry and James and Lily went into hiding. But then, of course, Peter betrayed us and the rest is history. I'm sure there was more to the prophecy than what I had heard, but it was not really my business to know. Harry had a right to know, I thought, after all the prophecy was about him, but Dumbledore didn't want to tell Harry yet. Why this was I wasn't entirely sure. Probably because Harry was so young, but there might be other factors I didn't know about. Dumbledore tended to keep us all in the dark, not just Harry.

The waiter came back to take our order, and I asked if there was anything I could do to help Harry. I asked if perhaps I could tutor him to help in get through the tournament, but Dumbledore informed me that that was against the tournament rules. I asked what the challenges would be, but Dumbledore said he didn't know as Bagman and Crouch organised the events not himself. After that conversation moved away from Harry and Hogwarts and onto myself. Dumbledore assured me that I had done good work in Germany, and that even though it had blown my cover, it was noble of me to try to save the aurors from Leohnard and his court. I said that I didn't think the aurors surviving the vampire attack had much to do with me.

"In fact, I should have known better than to run into a crowd of humans when transformation was imminent." I added feeling guilty.

"Well, I spoke to the aurors and Nymphadora Tonks told me, that even though you were partially transformed you were still capable of rational thought as you saved her by forcing Leohnard to dissaparate with you."

I opened my mouth, although I wasn't sure what I was going to say, then the food arrived and got distracted by how delicious it looked.

"You must have been taking wolfsbane otherwise you would never have been able to do that." Dumbledore continued pausing to smell his Beef Stroganoff.

"I was, but I missed my last dose so I was still dangerous." I said.

"I see." Said Dumbledore, "If you missed your last dose then you must have held back the wolf's violent tendencies with only your will power?"

"A bit of both...although I hadn't finished the course of medication, what I had taken did help a bit." I explained.

"Still, what you did was brave, if also a bit foolish." Dumbledore said, and again I didn't know what to say. "Anyway...bon apetit."

There was another short period of silence when I almost melted at how good my steak was. Two weeks of hospital food and before that nothing but potatoes and bratwurst, a nice bloody steak was exactly what I needed. I tried not to wolf it down precisely because of the image that verb invoked, but it was difficult because it tasted so damn good. Juicy and flavoursome and with the red wine...Merlin it was Heaven.

"I see you still have a fondness for red meat." Dumbledore commented with a smirk and I blushed, then swallowed. "The aurors also told me that as soon as you dissaparated with Leohnard the rest of the vampires gave up trying to kill the humans and left to try and find you and their master. So, you did save them."

"It wasn't really intentional." I said bashfully.

"Most courageous acts are equal parts bravery and luck." Dumbledore said. And I had another piece of steak so I didn't have to say anything. The rest of the lunch was spent casually discussing what I should do during my month or so of effective house arrest. Dumbledore advised me to lie low for a few weeks then appeal for the ministry to take the trace off me. As for how I would afford to buy wolfsbane, I worked out a modest plan on my way home. First, I would finish some of the papers I had been writing and send them to the Journal of Magical Theory to see if I could get them published, and secondly, I would to advertise myself as a private tutor. I had been a tutor when I was younger and you can earn quite a lot from it, plus it is quite fun and flexible. The only probably was that the rumour that I am a werewolf will probably be more well known now that I have signed the werewolf registry, which will no doubt put parents off, but there were bound to be some parents who didn't know, and maybe there will even be some that didn't care.

I flooed home, and the moment I stepped out of my fireplace two things struck my attention: first was that my owl Artemis had made it back from Germany all by herself and was hooting loudly because there was no food in her bowel, and second was the stubbly face of Sirius Black pressed against the living room window mouthing 'let me in wanker!'.


	31. Men Become Old

No reviews :(. I hope that doesn't mean you guys have stopped reading. Just cos I want to restore your faith I'm gonna give you a mini sneak preview of a future chapter:

"Ooh what's this?" Sirius said in a teasing voice snatching the drawing Tonks was working on and looking at it. "Goodness Tonks I didn't know you felt this way!" She jumped from her seat and tried to snatch the paper back but Sirius just held the paper above her head. Tonks pulled a sly expression and began to morph so that she was as tall as Sirius. Sirius, not wanting to be beaten, began to run around the table with Tonks chasing after him.

"Give it back you git!" She yelled while Sirius laughed.

"Maybe I should show Remus! She what he thinks of your artistic ability!" Sirius shouted successfully grabbing my full attention.

"No!" Tonks shrieked looking quite panic stricken. "No you can't!" Sirius stopped running and stood on my right side with the drawing in his hand, smiling mischievously at Tonks who had stopped on my left side.

"Why not Tonksie?" Sirius teased.

"Er...It's not finished..." Tonks said her cheeks starting to go a little pink.

"Is it a drawing of me?" I guessed.

"Why, yes Remus it is." Sirius declared laying the picture before me while Tonks made a strange squeaking noise.

Chapter 31

I gestured to Sirius to go to the kitchen door where I let him in.

"You shouldn't be here." I said when he stepped into my kitchen. "The ministry are watching me."

"Your hair's got terribly long. Could almost tie it in a ponytail." Sirius remarked walking towards the fridge, he stopped before he opened it and looked at me. "You'd look just like you did in 1979 if it weren't for the greys. And the wrinkles." I frowned and Sirius opened the fridge.

"See you've still not stocked up then." Sirius said looking at the empty fridge. "You said in your last letter – nice work sending it with a pigeon – you said you'd be home from Germany last week? Why is there no food? Where've you been? And wait - why is the ministry watching you?" I didn't say anything for a few moments instead I just thought about how much trouble both Sirius and I would be in if there was someone from the ministry watching me right now. Still it was so good to see him. And it was unlikely that the ministry had sent a spy to my house already. I took my wand out and charmed the owl treats in the cupboard under the sink to fly out and into Artemis' bowl, then I charmed the kettle to start boiling and two mugs to make some tea. Sirius sat down at the kitchen table, as did I, then I told him everything. I told him that the Death Eaters in Germany were acting on the orders of Walden Macnair, who thought that getting vampire's on his side would make him look like a better Death Eater when Voldemort returns; I told him that Voldemort had a spy working for in Britain; I told him about the vampire's attacking the Death Eater's camp the same night five aurors turned up to arrest them; I told him about Tonks seeing me half transformed then about Leohnard forcing me to relive shameful memories and then about fighting off an entire court as a wolf; I told him about waking up lost in the middle of the German forrest and about being saved and arrested by Tonks; I told him about my trial and about how I had a trace on me and would have to go to the ministry for every transformation until further notice. It was a huge relief to be able to complain and whine to him about it, and have him listen patiently. Sirius always had time to help his friends, no matter how trivial their problems might be in comparison to his own.

"You had to fight the whole court?" Sirius asked me, his eyes narrowed with anxiety mingled with horror, "how did you survive?" Sirius added, but the expression on his face told me that he already knew the answer, he was only asking because he knew it would help me to talk about it. Sirius and I look nothing alike. Sirius is classically handsome, even with the grey shadows of Azkaban in his eyes and under his cheekbones. Thick jet black hair (not a _trace_ of grey), dark brown eyes and precise, even features that would have put Adonis himself to shame. My imperfections always seemed more pronounced when I stood next to him, my hair seemed greyer, my skin more pale and my nose more crooked. But apart from all those rather superficial physical differences, the biggest difference in our appearances was that you could always quite plainly see Sirius's emotions in his face, he didn't mind either, he very rarely tried to hide his feelings. I have been told that I am exactly the opposite, and I think I have to admit that it's true. I do not like other people to know how I'm feeling, and my conscious efforts to always appear calm and unfazed have over the years become unconscious and uncontrollable. While Sirius' eyes are very affective in their emotional transparency, I have been told that mine are 'unreadable' or worse 'blank'. (I've also been told thousands of times that they are 'weird' because they are a very unusual colour, a sort of hazel-brown that was almost yellow. They are the same as my mother's, but on her they looked pretty, on me they look too much like wolf's eyes.) Now Sirius was looking at me very intently, and I could see sympathy and fear and regret. He already knew that the only way I could have survived being set upon by a whole court of vampires is if I had killed some of them.

"I don't know...I don't remember what happened." I said in reply to his question, my voice quite quiet and more horse than usual. "I don't think I want to. I woke up with a lot of blood on me, I don't think it was all my own."

"That's...so disturbing..." Sirius said with a grimace and I laughed even though I felt sick.

"I know..." I said slightly hysterically, "you are on the run because the ministry thinks you have killed twelve people when you haven't, and I'm complaining because they want me to spend one night a month in a cage when I _have_ killed twelve people, maybe more." Admitting out loud that I had killed stung like salt in my eyes, and made me feel like throwing myself of a bridge, but also, strangely, it brought some relief. I also felt like a complete idiot to have felt that it was unfair that the ministry wanted to control me – I should be controlled, I'm dangerous. _I'm_ the murderer here, not the man sitting opposite me.

"They weren't people, Remus." Sirius said, sounding so sure even though most would have said that if werewolves were people so were vampires.

"They were sentient, isn't that the mark of personhood?" I argued. Sirius shrugged and looked around my kitchen.

"They were trying to kill you." He said, and I felt that he really didn't want me to feel guilty about what I had done, but it was completely too late. "And, well, you probably didn't kill that many – I imagine you just bit a few then ran away..." I groaned loudly then banged my head on the table.

"Look Remus you didn't have a choice." Sirius said putting his hand on my shoulder while I rested my forehead against the table. "And you didn't mean it, you didn't take you last dose of wolfsbane, you didn't have complete control." I didn't say anything but I didn't move.

"Isn't it better that you killed a bunch of vampires than let them kill all the aurors – including my baby cousin!" Sirius continued. I didn't reply, but I had to agree on that last point. It was better that she was alive, even if the cost was that I had to live with knowledge that I had killed. My guilt and self disgust, although very much still present, began to creep back to the recess of my mind where they would quietly fester.

Then Sirius said, "By the way, when she 'saved' you, did she see you naked?" and I snorted into the table as I marvelled at the strange way Sirius' mind could jump from one topic to a completely different one so abruptly.

"No, I robed a death Death Eater of his robes." I told him, still resting my brain on the wood.

"Right," Sirius said, "good. That would have been really weird."

"It was still a bit weird: she had to undress me quite a bit to get to the stab wounds..." I said thankful that only the table could see me blushing.

"And she didn't even take you out to dinner first." Sirius joked. "A girl after my own heart." I hadn't told Sirius that Leohnard had included fantasising about his cousin among the memories I was ashamed of. I hadn't told him about the attempted suicide either. And I didn't think I would, they were too private. Sirius used his wand to summon the two mugs of tea. I pulled my head from the table so that I could drink it.

"Anyway, I want to talk about why I'm here." Sirius said.

"I know why you are here." I responded simply.

"You do?"

"Because Harry has been chosen as a triwizard champion."

"Yes. Did you read it in the paper?"

"No, I had lunch with Dumbledore today and he told me."

"Harry wrote to me." Sirius said, "he said he didn't put his name in, so someone else must have."

"Yes, Dumbledore thinks it might have been the spy Voldemort has in Britain that Faustus and I heard about." I then told Sirius what Dumbledore and I had discussed earlier about the mystery as to why Voldemort would want Harry competing in the tournament. I also told Sirius that Dumbledore wanted Harry to compete in the tournament to find out.

"Did he ask Harry if he was okay with this? I mean, it's almost like Dumbledore is using Harry as bait." Sirius asked his fatherly concern for Harry almost eradicating his respect for Dumbledore.

"I know," I agreed with the same expression of incredulity, "and no, Dumbledore didn't ask Harry. Harry has no idea that Voldemort himself might actually be behind this."

"Dumbledore can't use Harry like that. He should at least tell Harry what's going on."

"I thought so too, but Dumbledore didn't want to frighten Harry."

"He's not a child, he's fourteen now."

"But still...I can see why Dumbledore is hesitant. It's a lot for a fourteen year old boy to deal with. What's more we are not even sure that Voldemort _is_ behind this" Sirius opened his mouth to protest but I wouldn't let him "– all the signs point to it, I know; but we only have signs and clues and rumours, no solid proof."

"Harry still has a right to know what's going on. If Dumbledore wont tell him then I will." Sirius said, looking lively and ready for action, which strangely made me feel very tired.

"You can't say something like that in a letter." I said. Sirius raised an eyebrow for me for a second, perhaps wondering why I wasn't telling him to follow Dumbledore's example and not tell Harry anything. His surprise was expected I suppose, as I do not often disagree with Dumbledore.

"No, I told Harry to be alone in Gryffindor tower on the 22nd of November." Sirius told me defiantly. "I'm going to Floo him."

"How? You're on the run! Or have you taken to carrying fireplaces in your pocket now?"

"I thought I'd use yours." Sirius said with shrug.

"You can't use mine!" I chastised. "I've told you, I have the trace on me, so as soon as I enable a Floo connection with Hogwarts the ministry will send their spies in to see what I'm doing. They'll see that you are here and we'll both get a Dementor's kiss."

"I didn't know _that_ when I wrote to Harry." Sirius said defensively. "I'll just have to use someone else's fireplace."

"Whose?"

"I don't know...I'll think of something." Sirius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. There was a brief period of silence while Sirius looked back at the fridge and his stomach growled, I too was getting hungry, but I would have to go out to get food and lethargy had extinguished my inner hunter-gatherer.

"Why the 22nd?" I asked Sirius.

"Well I thought you'd be helping me reclaim my parents house this week," Sirius said, "but I don't suppose you'll be able to do that either with the trace..."

"Not really no. I have to stay at home and be good." I said a little bitterly.

"Merlin, I hope you aren't going to be this grumpy all night." Sirius complained. "At least you've got a home to be good in!"

"Right, yes..." I said feeling guilty, "sorry Padfoot."

Even though it was against my better judgement, I allowed Sirius to stay one night. Apparently he no longer had anywhere to stay in Singapore because he had a brief fling with a muggle woman who lived in the apartment building opposite and her friend recognised him so he had to scarper. I would have chastised Sirius for sacrificing his cover for sex, but it had been twelve years so I guess I had to forgive him. And I know it was selfish of me, but I didn't really want him to leave, it was so nice to see him. So I told him it was alright and I headed out to buy some food. There was a muggle food shop a few miles down the road so I took an old bike we had in the shed and cycled down there. There weren't many street lights in Alainferas, only a few in the centre, and the bike didn't have one of those little lamps they are supposed to have, so I tied my wand to the front and used wand light to guide me. I still couldn't see very far in front of me, but the darkness was actually sort of relaxing. The roads were quiet and it was peaceful. The November air was sharp and cold signalling the oncoming winter, but even this was refreshing rather than unpleasant. It was good to be home again.

When I arrived at the muggle supermarket I got the bunch of five pound notes I had stashed inside a book for occasions such as this and held them in my hand wondering whether the supermarket was like a British wizard market where there were lots of separate stalls with wizards at each selling vegetables or meat or cheese or whatever, or whether it was like an American Wizard market where there were lots of stalls but you just collected what you wanted then paid a Goblin at the end. After loitering around the fruit for a bit I gathered that it was like an American Wizard market, so, imitating the muggles walking past me looking like I was insane I grabbed a basket and wondered around. It took me quite a while to find everything I needed because there was just so much there! And they had so many different versions of the same thing. There were twelve different types of peanut butter! Eventually I had what I needed and I went to where the goblins would be. Instead of goblins there were three tired looking twenty-somethings sitting behind rubber conveyer-belts. I went to the one that was manned by a redhead with a nose ring. I had no difficulty paying although it was strange to watch the young man shine a plastic wand at all the food that I wanted. I was very impressed with the muggle money, it made so much more sense than wizard money!

With my groceries bought, I tied the bags to my bike and cycled home. I had bought food suitable for chicken in white wine sauce with broccoli and carrots. It sounds fancy I know, but it really was very simple. Sirius was still impressed however. I could only cook the muggle way as my mother had been my teacher and I found that the knowledge she had given me was quite adequate so I never bothered to look up any cooking spells. I wasn't as good as Molly Weasley or Andromeda Tonks, but I wasn't too bad.

"The food in Singapore is so good."

"How would you know? You were lying low weren't you?"

"I still had to eat." Sirius said defensively, "and it was fine, they have these er...food courts with all these different stalls selling malaysian food and indian food and chinese food, and all tastes fantastic."

We had a late dinner while Sirius told me more about Singapore.

"It's a very weird place," Sirius said and he gulped rather than sipped his wine, "I didn't see a single witch or wizard while I was there. It was quite fun living like a muggle though." Sirius leaned back and waved his wand at the blue flames I had conjured to hover in the air above our table so that blue deer jumped out of the fire and galloped around it.

"But I did miss magic. I mean, there's nothing quite like walking through Diagon Alley and seeing miniature dragons fly out of someone's pocket, or a witch with eyes enchanted to change colour, or kids fighting over a firebolt."

"Yes," I agreed pointing my wand at the fire enchanting it so that a wolf jumped out to chase Sirius' deer. "Tell me about the woman you met."

"She was a muggle healer that lived in the apartment building opposite from where I was staying." Sirius said grinning at my flame-wolf.

"Where were you staying exactly?" I said as Sirius pointed his wand at his deer changing them into a Dragon that blew fire at my wolf. I flicked my wand so that every fiery jet from Sirius' mini dragon that hit my wolf made it double in size.

"It was Singapore's equivalent of a council flat that belonged to this couple that had gone on holiday to Australia." Sirius said as his dragan started to run away from the giant wolf. "It was a nice place actually."

"What was the doctor like?" I asked as my wolf swallowed the dragon and I grinned in triumph.

"Doctor? What?" Sirius said shaking his fist at me.

"The muggle healer, they are called doctors."

"Oh yeah," Sirius said with a shrug, "She was nice, very pretty. Blue eyes, black hair."

"How did you – how did you manage it?" I asked a little incredulous. "How does a convict in hiding get a date?"

"I don't know Moony, I guess it must just be my rugged good looks and irresistible charm." Sirius said with a cheeky grin. I rolled my eyes and poured myself some more wine. "What about you?"

"What do you mean what about me?" I asked my eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sirius downed his glass then waved it at me so that I would refill it. It had gotten so late that the idea of leaning forward in my chair so that I could refill Sirius' glass seemed like too much effort. So instead I levitated the bottle and poured the wine by magic. As testament to how alike Sirius and I were, he didn't bat an eyelid at this display of laziness.

"I mean," Sirius continued, picking up the glass, "Have you been single for the whole twelve years?" I didn't answer Sirius question straight away, I just shrugged and pulled a face.

"Oh dear. What happened to the jungle game girl?"

"You mean Janine."

"AKA Sienna-rebound."

"We broke up shortly after James and Lily died." I said stonily. I drank some while while Sirius pressured me for more information using a particularly potent stare. "After that, I don't know...it took me a long time to recover from loosing you all. Four or five years passed before I even thought about..."

"Don't tell me there's been no-one for thirteen years." Sirius said with a horrified and pitying expression. I gave Sirius a sarcastic grin.

"I went out with a witch in Oxford for a little while. She was called Rose, she worked for the Cleansweep Broom Company. She was nice, but...it didn't work out."

"Why?"

"Same old reason." I replied practicing my emotionless face.

"Did you tell her?" Sirius asked looking slightly surprised.

"No, but...I knew what she would think..."

Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned, "Moony! Tell me you didn't dump her just so that you didn't have to tell her."

"No I didn't." I said slightly defensively. "No-one dumped anyone, we just drifted apart."

"You stopped calling her you mean." Sirius accused. I said nothing and instead drank some more of my wine. "Is that all? In twelve years you had a five minute fling with _one_ woman?"

"There was another, Monica, but that was just the one night..." I admitted regretfully.

"Remus I beginning to dispair..." Sirius exclaimed, shocked by how romantically barren my history was.

"I did er, have a thing with the headmistress of Adrienne's." I told him my ears getting slightly hot.

"What do you mean 'had a thing with'?" Sirius asked me his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I just mean...she wasn't my girlfriend exactly...but..."

"Remus J Lupin!" Sirius said imitating an angry grandmother. "You don't mean to tell me that _you, _Mr Virtuous, had a 'friend with benefits'!"

"Don't say that, it sounds so vulgar."

Sirius sniggered and drank some more wine. "So, that brings your total number of sexual partners to what? Four?"

"More than four." I said in response to Sirius's mocking grin.

"How much more?"

"...Five." I said before cringing slightly. "Oh my God is that all?" Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter and for a second I forgot he was laughing at me because it was so nice to see him happy.

"Ah, you're just like that: you take sex seriously. It's not a bad thing." Sirius said sincerely, while I sighed and watched the levitating fire quiver as my breath reached it.

"But that's why I never pictured you as a friends-with-benefits type of man," Sirius continued, "you must have been quite desperate?"

"It was around the time my mother was dying. I wasn't really myself." I said quietly with a touch of guilt.

"Oh." Sirius breathed the smile fading from his face as sympathy replaced it. "I don't think I ever said, I'm so sorry that she died Remus, she was a lovely person."

"She was." I said looking at her kitchen a little sadly. "Thank you Sirius." Sirius looked at me for a few minutes then smiled, then he looked down at his wine glass and swirled the red liquid around for a bit.

"Well," He said his voice quiet and slightly raspy, "Looks like we'll both become old bachelors." I didn't say anything, instead I just looked at the lines around Sirius's eyes and the faint banana-shaped scar on his chin. James had given him that scar, I smiled slightly at the memory, but also felt a sad nostalgia.

_"Get out from behind the armchair you coward and face me like a man!" James yelled as he himself ducked behind the chesterfield to the left of the fireplace. I stood at the bottom of the stairway that led to the boy's dormitories seething slightly. The two of them had emptied the common room by using it as the setting for their epic dual. I had been reading on my bed when a fourth year came and complained to me that Morecambe and Wise had made the common room unsafe. Being a prefect it was sort of my responsibility to put a stop to the Black-Potter mayhem, so I had headed downstairs, and got my wand out in case I had to stop them by force. _

_ "Seriously you two! Have you any idea how irritating you are?" I yelled at them sounding much more whiny than I intended. _

_ James stood up and shouted "Oh go read a book Moony!". Sirius sniggered and shot a spell at me so fast that I didn't have time to dodge it. The spell his my chest – my prefect badge to be exact. I looked down at the normally red shield to see that Sirius had turned it into a little wolf's head that stuck its tongue out at me and blew a raspberry. I glared at it then shot a spell at Sirius wordlessly. The spell hit Sirius and set the shoulder of his robes on fire. Sirius gave a little yelp and looked at me, I gave him a sarcastic smirk and the finger. Sirius laughed and patted out the flames before continuing his duel with James. _

_ "Praefoco per auris!" He yelled pointing his wand at James who immediately ducked behind the sofa again. The hex shot from Sirius' wand and looked like it would hit the sofa James was hiding behind, but then Sirius held out his wand-free hand and made a little rolling motion whilst muttering "jump jump" and the spell whipped round the sofa and hit James in the top of the head. I took a moment to be impressed by Sirius' hexing ability, then tried to suppress a grin as James' ears grew in size so that they resembled the ears of an African elephant then they wrapped themselves his face. James gave a jolt of surprise and fell over backwards. Then he started kicking his legs about as he tried to prize his own giant ears off his face. He didn't seem to be having much luck and Sirius who was leaning over the arm chair, cackling like a hyena, seemed very pleased with himself. _

_ "Do you yield, you four-eyed Niffler pleasurer!" Sirius yelled. _

_ "ne-err!" James yelled back. _

_ "What was that?" Sirius asked mockingly. _

_ "NE-EERR!" James yelled again as he reached for his wand. "A-ap-io!" He added pointing his wand at his face. His ears fell away from his face but remained ridiculously oversized. This didn't seem to bother James though, as he jumped up grinning, pointed his wand at Sirius and yelled "Cornapia!", a spell I think he made up on the spot. The spell hit Sirius, who at once grabbed his chin and fell over behind the armchair out of my line of sight. _

_ "Expelliarmus!" I yelled and Sirius and James' wands were plucked from their hands and flew into mine. _

_ "AAAH!" I heard Sirius yell. "What have you done to me Prongs?"_

_ "Dunno, can't see you mate." James said looking more amused than worried, as he shrank his massive ears back to their normal size with a reducing charm. I walked towards the armchair with James following me. We reached the other side of it to find Sirius prostrate on the floor with a massive horn growing out of his chin. James instantly burst out into hysterical laughter while I tried to look unamused – which was very difficult as Sirius was trying to stand up but kept falling over as the weight of the horn increased as it grew. It was getting so big now that it was starting to curve around his body. _

_ "Finite!" I shouted. The horn stopped growing, but remained very much sticking out of Sirius' face. Sirius held the horn with both hands and stood up. _

_ "You see what happens?" I said shaking my hand at Sirius and looking at James who was still doubled up with hysterics. I looked back at horn-chin who was sniggering like an idiot and couldn't hold it in any more. A very undignified snort escaped me, then I gave in to that horrible all-consuming laugh of mine – the one that Tonks liked. _

_ "Oh Merlin..." James said once his laughter subsided. "We better get you to the hospital wing." _

_ Then James and I escorted Sirius to the hospital wing, laughing the whole way, so that Madame Pomfrey could remove the tusk sticking out of his chin._

As I watched Sirius looking at his wine glass I could tell that he was thinking about him: his best friend; I was a poor substitute really.

"At least we're together, though." Sirius said looking back up at me. I nodded and Sirius raised his glass. "To bachelorhood."

"To friendship." I added raising my own.

We both drank then Sirius remarked, with a fond grin, "I miss Janine. She was funny."

"She was insane." I corrected, and Sirius laughed.

"Yeah. And she had that laugh remember, a proper witch's cackle. Aaaahahahahaha!"

I sniggered slightly at Sirius's impression of Janine then mumbled, "that wasn't the worst sound that came out of that woman's mouth."

"I know! I slept in the next room, and you didn't always remember to cast a silencing charm."

"I remembered it more frequently that you did!" I accused. "I was kept up three nights in a row once because of your forgetfulness. I had to listen to you romance Catherine, then the next night I had to listen to you and the girl who worked in Flourish and Blotts, then the next night to Catherine yell at you for hours because she found the Flourish and Blotts girl's earring in your bed."

"Oh yeah...she hexed me so bad. Remember? She covered me scales."

"Yes I remember, we spent all might trying to look up the counter to it because you were too embarrassed to go to St Mungos." I said with a grin. "You deserved it though, I mean, you didn't even change the sheets."

"Oh shut up Moony."

NOTE:

_Praefoco per auras _means (roughly cos my latin is terrible) _suffocate with ears_; though I doubt Sirius cast a strong enough hex to _actually_ suffocate James.

When James says 'A-ap-io' he is trying to say 'Anapnio' which is a spell from the books.

_Cornapia _is not a proper spell, James just made it up, but causing a horn to grow out of Sirius' head probably was his intention as 'corn' means horn and James would have known this.


	32. A Wolf's Bay

Yay! Thanks for the reviews! I like writing in first person, but it can be really difficult sometimes, so I'm glad you are enjoying the story for the most part.

I reread the last chapter and found, like, five typos. SO sorry about that. (I've edited the previous chapter and got rid of them.) New years resolution: read through chapters before posting!

Cynical-Romantic (cool name) I think I agree about italics, I'm not sure they are necessary. I'm not a huge fan of flashbacks actually, but JK uses them so I thought 'hey, flashbacks are a Harry Potter thing'.

And Jabberwocky92, completely agree with you about wanting to make this AU! When I think about how I'm going to do the book 5 and 7 stuff I do want to cry (especially the book 7 stuff).

Chapter 32

The following friday was a full moon. I had spent most of the week finishing a paper on time travel and planning one on the relation between magic and consciousness. Today I had the day off. And I was spending it rearranging the furniture. Being utterly broke and required by wizarding law to pay a potion brewer to make wolfsbane for me, I was forced to acquire some money fast, and the only way I could think of doing this was to sell some of my furniture. So I sold an armchair, the television set that I never used, the single bed from my old bedroom (I was sleeping in my mother's old room now so didn't really need it), the bookcase from downstairs (which was an antique so got me quite a bit) and a large ornamental vase that my parents got as a wedding present from my father's mother – the vase was supposed to keep flowers alive indefinitely, but it didn't work, if anything the flowers just died more quickly; my parents only kept it so as not to offend my grandmother, but seeing has she had been dead for twenty years I didn't think she'd be coming to visit any time soon. With the money I made I ordered a two months of wolfsbane and bought some new robes seeing as I had ruined another set when I transformed in Germany. As my old bedroom no longer had a bed, and thus could hardly be called a bedroom, I decided to make it into a study. I moved all the books that had been in the downstairs bookcase upstairs, and as there was no room left in the bookcase in my room, I enchanted them to float in neat stacks against the bare wall where the bed had been. Then I rearranged the living room so that the gaping space where the armchair had been wasn't so obvious.

After that, I sat down on the sofa and stared at the unlit fireplace. It was getting rather cold, and ordinarily I would have lit it, but I had to leave for the ministry in just under an hour so I didn't see the point. I was feeling the pre-transformation restlessness and irritability, which even though it was lessened by the wolfsbane, was enough to make sitting still an unpleasant activity. I got up and paced the living room trying to think of what I could do to occupy myself. I looked towards the kitchen, where I knew there was a vial of wolfsbane waiting to be taken. I checked my pocket watch. I still had quarter of an hour before I had to take it. I scratched the back of my left hand then rubbed my right eyebrow.

"Ah!" I said out loud as and idea occurred to me. I'd finish the letter to Harry and send it. I started writing it yesterday but got distracted when Artemis brought me a letter from the Weasleys reminding me that I said I'd have dinner with them and asking if I was free on Sunday. I replied straight away and Artemis didn't return until this morning: I think Molly gives owls leftovers from the dinners she makes, so I suspect Artemis stayed to make sure she got some. I sat down at the little writing desk in the living room, unlocked the draw where I kept personal letters with a spell and took out Harry's letter.

_Dear Harry, _

_ How are you? I heard that you have been named the fourth champion of the triwizard tournament, which I'm sure is more stressful than exciting. Don't be worried about people telling you that champions have died in tournaments held in the past; it's not the dark ages anymore: Dumbledore will not let that happen. But be cautious, I don't think whoever put your name in that goblet is a friend to you. Keep an eye open for anything suspicious, and tell Dumbledore if you see anything. As for the tasks themselves, I can't really help you I'm afraid as I do not know what they will be. But have confidence, you are a very skilled wizard and from my experiences last year most of those seventh years really aren't that much better than you. Plus you'll have Ron and Hermione on your side – I know the rules say that you're not supposed to have help, but what Bartemius Crouch doesn't know wont hurt him. In fact, I saw a picture of Mr Crouch in the newspaper the other day, and it looks like the knowledge he has is causing him significant pain._

_ Keep safe and don't hesitate to write if you need to._

_ Best wishes,_

Then I got stuck. How should I sign it? I put 'Remus Lupin' on his birthday card, should I just put 'Remus' this time? Harry had never written to me so I didn't know how he would address me in a letter. He probably called me 'Lupin'; I learnt whilst I was teaching at Hogwarts that the students generally refer to their teachers by their surname only, unless talking directly to them. In the end I decided it to sign it with Remus. I called Artemis, who obediently flew to my shoulder and hooted.

"Will you be retiring soon?" I asked her as I tickled her under her beak. She said nothing, obviously, as owls can't talk; but I could see that some of her feathers were going grey and knew the answer was yes. "Take this to Harry at Hogwarts will you?" She hooted again and stuck out her leg so that I could tie the letter to it. Then she fluffed her feathers while she waited for me to open the window so that she could set off. I felt a little sad as I watched her go. She was about 28 years old, which was longer than owls are expected to live, so she didn't have much longer left.

I took my wolfsbane with a shudder and a grimace. Wolfsbane is the most disgusting thing I've ever had to put in my mouth (and that includes Sirius' tongue – don't ask), it tastes like peppery vomit mixed with paint stripper. Then I adjusted my tie – I don't usually dress smart for a full moon, but I didn't want to look like a werewolf today; I didn't want to arrive at the ministry looking like a man robbed of his dignity by an illness because I knew that's what the ministry would try to do, so I wore a suit. It had to be a suit rather than wizard's clothes as I would be walking through muggle london. I checked my reflection in the hall mirror, scowled slightly because I really did need a haircut, then flooed to Diagon Ally. From there I walked to the visiter's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. I arrived in the atrium with a silver badge that said 'werewolf restraint', which I carried in my hand rather than wore, and headed towards security. I was scanned for concealed magical objects and had my wand checked, then I was told to proceed to level four, the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures. I walked through the atrium, past the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and through the golden double doors. There were a number of ministry workers bustling around me getting in and out of lifts, but none that I recognised; and none of them gave me a second glance, obviously the suit was working: none of them were thinking 'he's a werewolf' when they looked at me, they were more likely thinking 'he's here on business'. I got into the middle lift and a wizard with a thick ginger beard asked me what floor I wanted.

"Four please." I replied and the gentleman prodded the number four button. The lift stopped at level six, the department of magical transportation, and the doors opened. Through the open doors I could see a middle aged wizard in bright turquoise robes with twigs in his hair jumping up and down and screaming with joy.

"I've done it!" He shouted, "I've done it! Twenty thousand five-hundred and sixty-two places apparated to in one day! I've broken the record!"

The man with the ginger bead got out at this level and said calmly to the excited apparater, "alright calm down Miles, let's get you some tea, you're looking a little bit squiffy." I grinned slightly as the lift doors closed and the lift carried on up to level four.

"Level four, Department for the regulation and control of magical creatures." A witch announced as I arrived. The lift doors opened and I stepped out into a quiet round room with three doors, each painted blood red, a colour that both pleased and irritated me. I felt a trembling in my limbs as the wolf grew excited by the colour, and then annoyance at myself for being so affected by it. Printed on each door in silver lettering was the name of the division behind the door and a list of all the offices within each division. I ignored the 'Spirit Division', and focused on the 'Beast' and 'Being' divisions. Which was I? Listed on the door of the 'Beast' division was the 'Werewolf Capture Unit' and the 'Werewolf Registry' where I had had to sign the register, and listed on the 'Being' division was the 'Werewolf Support Service'. The ministry had told me that I was required to come to the department to be 'kept in a safe environment' during the full moon, but they never told me where exactly in the department this 'safe environment' was. I groaned slightly and, reasoning that I was probably a beast, I went through into the beast division. On the other side of the red door was a large doughnut-shaped desk with a young woman with huge glittery purple glasses sitting in the middle. She looked up when I entered, surveyed me for a second then held up her index finger to indicate that I should wait. She pointed to the table in front of her, and I followed her pointing finger to a very angry looking fairy that was squeaking in a language I didn't understand.

"Yes, yes, his hydrangea is planted right over your house, I understand." The witch said a little impatiently. "If you would just wait a few moments I will call Mr Hubbard and he'll sort this out for you." The fairy squeaked again and threw its tiny hands up in the air in frustration.

"Please!" The witch said pulling her wand out. "Wait over there!" She added pointing her wand at the fairy. The fairy made a huffing sound and put his or her (I couldn't tell) hands on his or her hips, then hit the witches wand away from him or her. The witch gasped.

"I warned you!" The witch said, then she banished the fairy to a chair underneath the pretend window to my right. The fairy hit the chair and started squeaking angrily again, and tried to fly back towards the witch, but apparently he or she was stuck to the chair.

"May I help you?" The witch said irritably turning to me, and using her wand to push her glasses back up her nose.

"Er, yes, I, um, I'm here..." Oh Merlin, how do I say this? "I'm here to be...restrained..." The witch raised an eyebrow at me.

"Okaaaay." She said. "Are you a werewolf?"

"Yes." I admitted.

"Okay, what's your name?" She said looking really rather bored, as she summoned a red folder from a shelf behind her.

"Remus Lupin." I replied. The witch opened the folder and flicked through it until she found the right page; then she picked up a quill, dipped it carelessly in a pot of blue ink, splashing some of it on the desk and some on her own hand, and wrote my name in the folder.

"Right, down the hall, go through the door marked 'werewolf capture unit', you can't miss it, its the door with one of the panels kicked in." The witch said lazily, banishing the folder back to its shelf.

"Thank you." I said.

"Whatever." She said as she riffled through the litter of papers on her desk. She wiped her forehead with her inky hand leaving a dark blue smudge there.

"Er, excuse me?" I said to her.

"What?" She said angrily.

"Er, you have ink on your face." I told her as politely as I could. The witch narrowed her eyes at me, then conjured a small mirror so that she could look at her face. She saw the ink on her forehead and groaned. She pointed her wand at her face and got rid of the ink.

"Thanks." She said grumpily, "now you better go before you get all furry on me." I nodded and proceeded down the corridor to the door with a panel kicked in. I knocked on the door and it opened almost instantly. A short, portly wizard with wiry grey hair stared sourly at me.

"Werewolf?" He asked in a gruff, unpleasant voice. I frowned at being adressed like this, but nodded.

"I am yes. I'm here on the Wizengamot's orders."

"Ah." The wizard said jerking his head to indicate that I should enter the room. "Who'd you bite?"

"No-one." I replied, slightly shocked by the question.

"The Wizengamot wouldn't send you here unless you bit someone." The wizard said as he shut the door.

"I didn't bite anyone. I'm just here on a caution." I said. The room I was now standing in was quite spacious, but dismal and dark. It had a concrete floor that was dirty with mud and dark red stains that I didn't want to know about, and bare brick walls. There were four wooden doors on two walls which had name-plates on, which I presumed were offices. And opposite to the door I had entered through, were a pair of metal double doors with a series of hefty bolts locking it.

"Alright, whatever. I'm Dominic Kazak." The wizard said. As he gestured for me to enter one of the offices. There was one other young man sitting in this office, scratching his neck. He looked absolutely terrified, in fact I wouldn't have been surprised if he burst into tears.

"Sit down." Kazak told me, and I obeyed, sitting next to the young man. "Alright give me your wand." Again I obeyed, though slightly reluctantly. Kazak put my wand in one of his desk drawers which he then locked. Then Kazak got a glass from a cupboard in his desk, and filled it with some dull green liquid that had been in a bottle on his desk. He thrust the glass at me.

"Drink it." He ordered.

"What is it?" I asked looking suspiciously at the glass.

"It's aconite juice." He told me pushing the glass further towards my face.

"I can't take that, I'm on wolfsbane." I said. Aconite, which is actually sometimes called 'wolf's bane', is a key ingredient of the potion with the same name, and is very poisonous. One of the side effects of wolfsbane is that it makes you feel quite sick and often gives you a rash a bit like sun burn because of the aconite. Fortunately, after a while, you develop a resistance to aconite and stop getting these side effects. However, you are advised not to consume any aconite whilst on wolfsbane because it will react with the wolfsbane in your system and, while it wont stop wolfsbane working, it will cause an angry red rash to appear almost instantly, usually on your face or neck.

"It's to check that you've been taking it." Kazak told me.

"Can't you use veriteserum?" I asked.

"This is cheaper." Kazak replied and I frowned.

"You could do a blood test." I suggested.

"Do I look like a medi-witch?" Kazak spat angrily. I groaned inwardly and took the glass. I drank the bitter drink in one gulp then handed the wizard back the glass. The wizard left the glass on his desk, then introduced me to the man sitting next to me.

"This is Anthony Driscoll." Kazak said. I looked at Anthony and offered him my hand to shake.

"I'm Remus Lupin." I told him, and Anthony stared at me for a few minutes then shyly shook my hand.

"He's the only other werewolf here tonight." Kazak said looking closely at my neck which had suddenly started to itch terribly, I reached up to scratch it but as soon as I touched my skin I felt a sharp burning. Obviously this was the aconite rash Kazak was looking for because he said,"Alright, that's fin," and reached for a small pot on his desk.

"Here put some of this cream on." He told me. I took the cream, which turned out to be witch hazel cream, and rubbed some on my burning skin. A few moments later, Kazak took the pot back and announced that it was time. He led Anthony and myself back into the hallway and then through those heavy metal doors. Beyond these doors was a huge dark cavern with about a hundred huge iron cages lining the walls on multiple levels. I took a deep breath and felt a rush of anger. Kazak waved his wand over two of the cages and a iron door appeared in each of them.

"In you get." Kazak said, a small grin appearing on his face.

"You can't be serious?" I said looking at the cage. It was large, but there was no privacy, and I would have to spent a night on that cold hard metal floor, feeling like an animal. What's more there was no need for it, he _knew_ I was medicated, he knew I was safe.

"I am. So get in." Kazak said pointing his wand at me.

"This is completely unnecessary." I said forcefully as Anthony looked from me to Kazak wondering what he should do.

"It is a precaution." Kazak said.

"An unnecessary one. And it's completely degrading." I argued drawing myself to my full height which was at least two heads taller than Kazak.

"Get in. Or I'll make you." Kazak said with a shrug. Clearly this man had been hardened by years of dealing with angry werewolves and centaurs and who knows who else: I wasn't going to win. With a scowl I walked into the nearest cage and Anthony walked into the one next to it. Kazak waved his wand and the cage doors disappeared leaving just a impenetrable wall of iron bars. Kazak turned and walked back towards the double doors. I walked to the front of the cage and put a hand around one of the bars – but the bars had had the flagrante curse cast over them and the bar burnt my hand. I yelled and let go.

"This is ridiculous!" I shouted at Kazak, who ignored me and walked through the double doors closing them behind him with a deep resounding boom. I examined the angry burn across my palm and sighed. It would probably heal during transformation, but that didn't change the fact that this was completely unnecessary. I felt a sudden surge of energy rush through my body and couldn't help but twitch as my muscles spasms: sunset was approaching and it wouldn't be long before I transformed. I glanced at Anthony who was standing in the middle of the adjacent cage trembling and running his hands through his hair. I didn't want to undress in front of a total stranger, and I definitely didn't want to transform in front of one. Transforming was private, I didn't even like the marauders to see me transform; they saw me in my wolf form of course, but they never saw the actual transformation process. There have been times when others have seen me transform: when I transformed at Hogwarts being an example, I also transformed in front of others a few times during my childhood while my parents were looking for cures; but I still fiercely avoided exposing myself in this manner. I looked at the dark cage and felt both humiliated and furious.

"I cannot believe this." I muttered angrily. I turned back to Anthony who looked up at me with an awkward expression.

"Are you alright?" I asked him gently. Anthony said nothing for a while, then he frantically wiped one of his eyes. I think he was trying not to cry.

"Are you – why are you here?" He asked.

"The ministry want to punish me for refusing to sign the werewolf register." I told Anthony.

"So it's not...It's not because you bit someone?" Anthony said, tears slipping from his eyes, obviously he was here because he had. I considered telling him about killing the vampires but decided that that story was too long to tell.

"It's not." I confirmed, feeling a huge tugging sorrow as the poor boy failed hold back his tears. He let out a sob and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"How long have you been a werewolf?" I asked.

"J-just six months." The boy answered, tears now coursing from his eyes. "I was on holiday with my girlfriend, and we went out for a walk...S-she was k-killed. I was j-just bitten." Again my heart ached for him.

"Do you have any family?" I asked walking towards the wall of iron bars that separated us. I felt another twitch and hissed with discomfort. I loosened my tie, and saw Anthony shudder as well. His face filled with terror at the oncoming transformation.

"They wont speak to me anymore." Anthony admitted sobbing loudly again. I felt at once disgusted at myself for ever feeling ungrateful for the life I had been given: when I was bitten my parents stuck by me and sacrificed so much so that I could live as normal a life as possible, and my friends too, Sirius and James, they did so much for me; this boy had nothing now, everything had been taken away from him. I wanted desperately to give him my life, to give him my friends. I hated to see him cry.

"Not after..." Anthony continued, then he let out a howl, half of dispair half of pain. A second later I felt it too, a piercing pain sprinting through my limbs. Once the pain subsided and I got my breath back I spoke to Anthony again.

"It wasn't your fault." I said sincerely. "It wasn't _you_." Anthony raised a trembling hand to his face and sobbed again. I felt another tremble in my legs and knew I only had a few minutes. I took off my tie and my jacket and laid them down in a corner of the cage. Anthony saw me start to undress and so began to do the same. I felt acute embarrassment, which contrasted so starkly with the sadness I had felt only moments ago that it was almost funny. Once undressed I sat down, wincing slightly at how cold the floor was, and put my hands in my lap so as to conceal myself as best I could. Anthony sat down too and put his shirt over himself. His tear-stained cheeks were slightly pink and he tried not to look me in the eyes. I could see a red sun-burn like rash on his back so knew this was probably his first or second full moon with wolfsbane.

"I take it you've not been taking wolfsbane for very long?" I said, hoping that conversation would keep his mind off the horrific event that was obviously plaguing him.

"This is the first time." He said.

"It really helps a lot." I told him. "It's a bit strange at first, but you'll see it makes it so much better. I mean, if you take wolfsbane there really is no need for you to be here." Anthony looked at me and I saw his eyes drift down over the scars across my arms and chest.

"How long have you been one?" He asked me.

"Since I was six." I answered. Anthony's eyes widen with shock.

"That long?" He questioned, "How do you...how can you bear it?"

"Well, like I said, wolfsbane helps a lot...and," I explained gently, "not everyone abandons you because of it. There are people that understand." Anthony didn't look like he believed me, but there was no time left to explain as I had begun to shake and felt searing pain in all my muscles. Anthony gave a cry so I knew he had also begun to change. I felt prickling over my body as fur started to grow and a thick agony as my bones all started to stretch. I moved onto all fours and let myself transform.

Once the pain had faded and I had become comfortable in my wolf's body I walked to the edge of my cage to check on Anthony. He was hunched in the corner whimpering. He was a bit smaller than I was, and his coat was sandy brown whereas mine was grey. I barked to get his attention. He turned his head to me and growled. I didn't react, instead I just waited for him to understand and accept that he had control, that he had his own mind. After a few minutes he seemed more relaxed and told me that he thought this was very strange. I told him that he would soon get used to it.

Communicating as a wolf is a strange experience. Unlike communicating as human it is mostly soundless. It is sort of like reading body language, but so much easier; I could understand entire thoughts, even very complex ones, from a tiny movement of their eyes, without having to think about it. When I was at school and Sirius, James and Peter used to keep me company as animals, they calmed my alter ego so that he became more like me – or I became more like me - and doing this enabled me to have conversations with them while in wolf form. It was much easier to communicate with Sirius than the others. I had to learn how to talk to James and Peter, almost like learning another language; I learnt how to understand James quite quickly, but it took me ages to understand Peter. I think this was largely to do with the species differences: Sirius was a dog, so it was easy for a wolf to understand him, it was more difficult for a wolf to understand a stag and damn near impossible for a wolf to understand a rat. I don't think the species divide was as much of a problem for the others, something to do with animagi magic.

I explained to Anthony that wolfsbane doesn't get rid of the urge to kill, but it gives us the power not to act on that urge – which it something that takes quite a long time to explain when you cannot speak – then suggested we try to sleep. I lay down on the cold floor and tried to ignore the smell that emanated from it. This was very difficult as it was so much more potent now that I was a wolf. I could smell blood, and excrement of all kinds of different beasts; I could smell other werewolves, which was a particularly revolting smell to me, I could also smell Chimera and Graphorn and even centaur. I curled up as small as I could and tried to sleep, but I was so uncomfortable. I considered sleeping on my clothes, but it was a nice suit and I didn't want to get wolf hairs on it. I was also very aware that Anthony kept looking at me.

I raised my head and looked at him. He was lying on his stomach staring at me, he looked very distressed, but I wasn't quite sure what to do about it. Had there not been a wall of bars between us I might have asked if he wanted to play, even though I was a bit old for that sort of thing. So instead I stood up and closed my eyes and howled. Anthony joined in very quickly, his howl a minor third above mine, as once a werewolf hears another howling it is very hard not to join in. I don't howl very much anymore, I used to do it a lot at school because Sirius couldn't really do it and I liked to tease him, but it is very enjoyable. It's sort of like singing, and can be an act of celebration or to express happiness or sadness; although its main purpose is to unite a pack and strengthen the bond between them. I haven't got a great singing voice, I mean it's not bad, I can carry a tune, but it's nothing special; I've been told however, my howl is quite impressive, and it was nice to have someone else to howl with me. I suspect Kazak, sitting in his office outside, probably hated the sound, or thought it was typical animalistic werewolf behaviour, but it was making Anthony happier so who cared?


	33. Anthony Driscoll

Okay guys, I'm very sorry it's taken so long for me to upload this chapter but I'm back at uni now and therefore have a lot less free time. Updates will be less frequent than usual. But I urge you to be patient as I've got some really great stuff planned! :) Lots more Sirius stuff coming up and more Tonks too!

Chapter 33

I did manage to get a little sleep during the night. Anthony didn't have the same success unfortunately. In the morning once we had both transformed back, he asked me while we were dressing how I managed to ignore the bloodlust thoroughly enough to allow me to sleep.

"It's just practice really." I told him as I tied my tie and Anthony put his jacket back on. I shrugged on my suit jacket and put my hand in the inside pocket for my watch, only to remember that I had left it at home.

"Do you know what the time is?" I asked Anthony, Anthony checked his wrist watch – the fact that he wore a wrist watch told me that he was probably muggle-born, or at the very least he had one muggle parent.

"It's seven fifteen." Anthony said, and I sighed.

"They should come and let us out soon." I remarked. Then I watched Anthony shuffle around in the cage with his hands in his pockets. I contemplated whether the question I was about to ask would seem too presumptuous. In the end I asked it anyway, "do you have somewhere to go when they let us out? Do you have a place to stay?"

"I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron," Anthony said, and I could tell by the inflection in his voice that he wasn't overjoyed by this, "until I can find a flat." He added.

"Are you working? Do you have a job?" I then asked, Anthony regretfully shook his head and I gave him a mirthless smile. I told Anthony how I was a teacher, but had lost several jobs because I was a werewolf and Anthony told me that before he was bitten he had started training to be a curse breaker.

"Do you still want to be a curse breaker? Because if you do, there's really no reason why you can't continue your training." I told him.

"They wouldn't want me." Anthony argued. "It's a high profile job, they'd never take me back on now that I'm...well, you know."

"It is true that you are disadvantaged now," I admitted, "employers do tend to hold it against you. But not all of them are completely prejudiced, and some can be persuaded that being a werewolf is irrelevant to your suitability. It's just about persistence really – determination not to let it beat you."

Anthony shrugged and I pushed my hair out of my eyes. I wasn't entirely convinced by what I was saying either. Persistence didn't always pay off, nor did determination. I always tried not to get angry when confronted with prejudice and discrimination. Instead I protested against the tradition of werewolf discrimination peacefully, and tried to win my case using reason and logic. But, some people just wont listen to reason. For some people, being a werewolf makes you evil and untrustworthy and that's that. No logic will change their minds.

Still there was one pice of advice I could give Anthony:

"Once you get on your feet, it's much easier to convince others that you're not as dangerous as they think. And once you've done that, it is possible to live an almost normal life."

"But I _am_ as dangerous as they think." Anthony said and I found I couldn't say anything. I knew what it was like to think of yourself as dangerous. I thought it all the time. I constantly agonised about what would happen if I forgot to take wolfsbane. And with the knowledge that only a month ago I had killed several vampires, hardly a moment went by when I didn't feel like monster. All the same, ignoring the double-standards, I said to Anthony:

"You're not. You made a mistake."

"It doesn't feel that way." Anthony argued with a hint of anger. "It feels like my fault."

"May I ask what happened?" I said politely. Anthony looked stonily at me for a few moments then told me.

"I didn't know about wolfsbane until recently. When I got bit, I didn't really want anyone to know, so I didn't go to hospital or tell the ministry or anything. So, I didn't know there was medication." Anthony explained chewing his lip between sentences.

"There was an old warehouse down near where I lived, they used to make shoes in there or something but went bust, and I used to go in there to transform. It was big and spacious in there, and I made sure all the doors were magically locked, I was really careful...And it was all working fine...But then my cousin...he found out what I was. Probably heard it from my aunt." Anthony pulled the sleeves of his shirt over his hands and looking determinedly down at his shoes.

"So he and his friends broke into the warehouse on a full moon." Anthony said, his voice trembling slightly, after a long silence. "I've no idea how they did it cos they were all muggles – they must have climbed in through the roof or something." Anthony's face screwed up with anger and I recognised the feeling; I knew what it was like to have someone break into the place you had thought safe, I knew how frustrating that was.

"Most of them got away...but...one boy didn't..." Anthony's anger faded almost as quickly as it had arrived and a hopelessness replaced it. "The son of a bitch was such a moron – I mean what was he thinking? That he'd just catch a glimpse of me and get away?" I said nothing to his rhetorical question and another long pause followed.

"He's a muggle so it's even harder for him..." Anthony said eventually, and I deduced from this that he hadn't killed the boy, but I wasn't sure whether that was better or worse.

"I don't know where he is." Anthony added. "He just disappeared after he got out of St Mungos. My mother wont talk to me now because of it. She blames me."

"Are you sure of that?" I asked gently, "Perhaps she is just upset, and if you talked to her about it...you'd be able to go home." Anthony just shook his head. Then there was a loud echoing clunk as the big metal doors of our cavernous prison were opened. Kazak had returned to let us out. He took us back to his office, gave us our wands, and told us both to be back next full moon. I asked how long I would have to keep coming back, to which Kazak just shrugged and puffed air through almost closed lips to indicated that he really couldn't give a toss. After that I went home. I told Anthony that he could write to me, and if he ever needed help with anything I'd lend a hand. Anthony thanked me, but despite how encouraging I was, I didn't expect him to write. He was too proud I think, to accept help, and I could understand that.

Once home I spent the rest of that day in bed sleeping off the post-transformation fatigue. Then on Sunday, I flooed to the Weasleys for Sunday Lunch, something that I absolutely could not fail to look forward to. As soon as I arrived in their fireplace I could smell the roast beef. Before I could stop it, my whole mouth filled with saliva.

"Hello?" I called, as the kitchen was empty. A minute later Molly had appeared having apparently been in the living room.

"Hello Remus! Do come in." She said with a large welcoming smile. I smiled back and stepped into her kitchen. Molly gave me a kiss hello and a second later Arthur had appeared.

"Hello, how are you?" He said. He looked as cheerful as ever, but perhaps a little older than I last saw him, his hair, although still flaming red, was a little thinner and his eyes looked more tired. But then, it had been years since I last saw him.

"Well thank you." I replied. "And yourself?"

"How was friday night? I understand you spent it at the ministry's 'facility'." Arthur asked skipping past my question completely. Molly gave a warning 'Arthur!' perhaps thinking that it was impolite to ask me about the full moon.

"It's alright Molly," I said genially, before answering Arthur's question with a shrug and: "it was uncomfortable, um...and a little debasing."

"Yes, the werewolf capture unit are not known for their sense of decency." Arthur remarked with a regretful frown as if is was somehow his fault I had to spend friday night in a cage.

"Would you like anything to drink Remus? I've got some fresh pumpkin juice." Molly said at the same time that I asked Arthur how he knew I had to spend the full moon at the ministry.

"Some Pumpkin juice would be lovely." I said at the same time that Arthur said:

"There has been a moderate amount of gossip flying about the ministry about you."

"Oh dear." I said as Molly told me to sit down while she fetched me a glass of pumpkin juice. I did as I was told and Arthur sat down next to me in his chair at the top of the Weasleys' large kitchen table.

"The rumours are that you were part of a gang of violent werewolves with homicidal intentions, and were trying to enjoin Death Eaters and vampires to aid you with some act of terrorism." Arthur explained. He was smiling at the ridiculousness of the rumour, but there were still frown lines between his eye-brows: clearly, although he didn't think I was a terrorist, he was concerned about the real reason for my arrest.

"I see." I said before sipping my pumpkin juice as I wondered how much I should tell the Weasleys. "I guess I can tell you now that the work has finished..." I concluded out loud after some mental deliberation.

"I was actually doing some work for Dumbledore in Germany, keeping an eye on some Death Eaters out there, and through bad luck, I was caught in the middle of a three-sided battle between Death Eaters, some aurors and a court of vampires who had, in their view, been disrespected by the Death Eaters – an offense which, to vampires, is punishable by death."

"Good gracious!" Arthur remarked his blue eyes widening behind his spectacles. "Was anyone hurt? Were you alright?"

"I'm still not sure exactly what happened," I admitted, "I was – er, I did...Well, I didn't survive unscathed, but I was alright. Some Death Eaters were killed however, and some vampires were too I think. No aurors were thankfully." I decided not to mention that that night had also been a full moon and that most of the vampire-deaths were probably down to me.

"We read about that in the paper!" Molly exclaimed, looking quite anxious. "It said that some aurors had tracked down these Death Eaters wanted for murder only to be attacked by a court of vampires. The article said that two Death Eaters were killed, but it didn't mention you at all."

"Didn't it?" I asked. "I would have thought an outed werewolf and ex-Hogwarts teacher being found near the hideouts of Death Eaters and vampires would have been just the sort of story the Prophet loves."

"The auror department are usually expert at keeping their business out of the papers," Arthur informed me.

"And of course this was just after that Rita Skeeter wrote about Arthur, saying how he caused a scene at Mad-Eye's house." Molly said, "so the Ministry were probably being extra careful to avoid media entanglements."

"What was this article about you?" I asked Arthur. "I've been moving around so much lately I haven't been keeping up with the papers."

"Did you hear about Mad-Eye thinking someone broke into his house, the day before he was due to start teaching at Hogwarts?"

"Yes I did hear about that, the intruder was attacked by Mad-Eye's dustbins wasn't he?"

"Yes – well, to be completely accurate: Mad-Eye's dustbins were set off by _something_ and started spewing rubbish everywhere and rattling and banging – waking up all of the muggles living on the same street – but whether the dustbins were set of by an actual intruder or by a stray cat remains a mystery."

"I see...And I suppose given his history...it's quite likely it was another false alarm."

"That was the ministry's attitude." Molly added as she opened the oven door and took out the vegetables with her wand. Again the smell of her perfectly cooked food was inexorably mouthwatering.

"It made it very difficult to get Mad-Eye off the hook with the improper use of magic office." Arthur explained, "using magic in a muggle-inhabited area is usually allowed if it is self-defence – but there was no evidence that it _was_ self-defence. I rushed over to Mad-Eye's house, the next morning, but by that time a whole bunch of those muggle men who where those funny hats with the shield on them...muggle law-enforcers, what are they called?"

"Police men."

"Yes, pleece men, they were already surrounding Mad-Eye's house, wrestling with dustbins that were chasing them down the street or trying to eat them. It was chaos, absolute chaos. Some Hit Wizards also arrived, and together we subdued the dustbins and modified the memories of the pleece men.

"I did manage in the end to get Mad-Eye off with a caution, but Rita Skeeter heard about the fiasco and it was front-page news."

"She tried to twist it all so that it looked like Arthur had been wrong to get involved." Molly said with an angry flush in her cheeks. "When really she should have written about how you saved the day!" I noticed Arthur's ears go a little pink at his wife's compliment, but he gave her a tender smile and thanked her for sticking up for him. I felt touched by their affection for one another, and was reminded of the feeling of safety I got whenever I witnessed my parents acting affectionately towards each other: when I was a child,

I used to think that no matter what was going on in the world, no matter how bad my transformations were, there was still hope if my parents still loved each other: things can't be so bad if they can still make each other happy.

"Anyway, the article wasn't just offensive to me, it was offensive to the Ministry in general, so I suspect when the vampires attacked in Germany they did their best to keep the whole thing quiet." Arthur concluded, explaining why I wasn't mentioned in the paper when I was arrested. I wondered if perhaps Tonks had had a hand in keeping my arrest quiet. She did seem to feel quite bad about arresting me after all.

"So, why _did_ they arrest you? Did they think you were with the Death Eaters?" Molly asked.

"Yes, they did. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." I replied. "But Dumbledore was a witness in my trial and I was found not-guilty."

"Why did you have to come in to the ministry on the full moon then? If you were found not guilty?" Arthur asked looking confused.

"Oh, er...that was because I never signed the werewolf registry. They want to check that I'm taking wolfsbane etcetera." I explained and the Weasleys both nodded in comprehension.

"But everyone at the ministry thinks I'm some sort of pro-werewolf extremist?" I questioned.

"So it would seem." Arthur said with a shrug.

"I guess I should expect some more hate-mail then." I remarked.

"Hate-mail? When did you get hate-mail?" Molly called from the over where she was checking on the vegetables.

"When I resigned my post at Hogwarts after the students found out what I was, I received quite a few howlers from angry parents." I explained. "I'm sure I'll receive more now that they all think I'm a terrorist as well."

"Oh I wouldn't worry too much," Arthur reassured me, "everyone will be too busy talking about the triwizard tournament. They'll soon forget about you."

"Oh yes, of course...Harry is the big news this week."

"Indeed he is," Arthur said then he pointed his wand towards the living room and said "accio Prophet." The newspaper flew swiftly into the room landing on the table in front of Arthur.

"Have you read todays?" He asked me.

"I haven't, no." I replied my eyes taking stock of the 15th of November's front page.

"Here. Have a read, and tell me what you think. I'm not quite sure what to make of it myself – I can't tell what's true and what's not." Arthur said.

"Why don't you read it in the living room?" Molly suggested, "it's more comfortable in there, and I need to set the table." Although I was quite keen to read the paper, I didn't forget my manners.

"Oh, let me help you." I said standing up.

"Nonsense, it only takes a second." Molly said, "everything's ready...I'm just waiting on Bill."

"Yes where has that boy got to?" said Arthur as he scratched his chin.

"The clock says he's travelling, so he must be on his way." Molly said looking at the Weasleys' excellent clock. Bill's hand was indeed pointed to 'travelling'.

"We did ask Charlie and Percy as well...but they were both busy." Molly informed me with disappointment ringing in her voice. "Charlie is busy planning a dragon-capture in Hungry...I'm not sure what Percy is doing...What could Mr Crouch want him to do on Sunday?" Molly turned to direct her last question at her husband, and unless I was mistaken, she looked a little bit cross – as if she didn't really believe Percy's excuse.

"I'm not sure Molly, but you know that Percy takes his work very seriously, perhaps he just wants to be ahead for tomorrow." Said Arthur diplomatically.

"Percy is working for Bartemius Crouch?" I questioned.

"Yes, he is Barty's assistant. And is apparently very busy – which I suppose makes sense as his boss is one of the chief organiser's of the triwizard tournament." Mention of the tournament drew my thoughts right back to the paper on the table. I was extremely eager to read it, but I didn't think it would be polite to say so, so I just looked at it. Arthur could apparently read my thoughts though because he said:

"Now, read the article about it in there, I want to know what you think."

I picked up the paper then Molly shooed Arthur and I out of the kitchen. I sat down on the sofa in the Weasley's cosy living room, while Arthur turned on the wireless with a swish of his wand. I liked the Weasley's home. It was small and cluttered and none of the furniture really matched, but it was warm and comforting. The walls were decorated with children's drawings of dragons and witches and wizards playing quidditch, the throws and cushions were all handmade, the books littering the coffee table and the bookshelves all had strips of parchment marking out pages someone had once marked as interesting, and there were lots of photos, some in frames some pinned to the wall as they were. There could be no doubt that this house was built to shelter a family. In fact, I suspect that was literally true: I suspect when Molly and Arthur bought the place it was just a one or two bedroom cottage that they magically extended when they had children transforming the cottage into the weird wonky tower it was now.

Two stories were competing for prominence on the front page: the main head line was 'Wizard Beaten By Frightened Muggles' and I quickly scanned that article. A wizard called Stanley Kooks, had told a few of his muggle neighbours that he was a wizard, and as a result was attacked by a group of muggle youths who either thought he was a nutcase or were afraid of him. Mr Kooks escaped unscathed, he used a Petrificus Totalust kids. Most muggles do not react to magic like that. Muggles very very rarely attack wizards. My neighbours themselves were fined the attack as 'further proof' that muggles were dangerous and the statute of secrecy was not (as some 'radicals' have suggest

"This article about the man attacked by muggles is quite interesting." I mentioned causally to Arthur.

"Yes, it is." He agreed. "The Prophet is exaggerating the incident I think. I know Stanley Kooks, he writes story books for children: a lovely fellow but a bit odd. He's not very popular among politicians because he's very outspoken about his views on wizard-muggle relations. He thinks witches and wizards should integrate with muggles – and despairs at the fact that muggle-studies is such an unpopular subject at Hogwarts. He thinks it should be compulsory."

"Yes I think some more liberal-minded politicians wanted him to run for office a few years back." I remarked. "But he was 'discouraged' by Fudge's cabinet."

"Yes I heard that, definitely sounded a bit dodgy to me." Arthur said, "but of course, as soon as Fudge expresses his disapproval of someone, you know that person is speaking the truth."

"Ha! Yes I agree." I said with a sardonic grin, "and in fact I do think Kooks is onto something. Perhaps throwing out the statute of secrecy is going a bit far, but I definitely think that the stark segregation between magical and muggle culture is responsible for a lot of the anti-muggle and anti-muggle-born prejudice. Kooks is right that we should integrate with muggles more – learn more about their culture."

"Oh absolutely!" Arthur exclaimed sitting forward in his chair. In his excitement, his spectacles slipping down his long nose a fraction, but he just pushed them back up and carried on, "I think we should be learning as much as we can about muggles, and I agree with Kooks about muggle-studies: it's a very important subject. Sadly, I think the kids see it as a bit of a 'doss' subject. None of Fred, George or Ron wanted to take it – I think the older boys put them off. I'm very pleased Ginny decided to take it this year though."

"Yes, when I was there last year, Charity Burbage told me that, as hard as she tried, she found it difficult to get the kids interested in muggle-studies. Even the module on muggle technology she teaches wasn't nearly as popular as she thought it would be." I commented. "She said a lot of the children from pure-blood families see taking muggle-studies as betraying their blood-status. And these are the students who have a lot of influence on the others – so a lot of students don't take the subject for fear of being bullied."

"That is terrible. But you see that happening everywhere, not in schools. A lot of people who, like Kooks, regard this whole blood status-stuff rightfully as a load of hippogriff dung, are afraid to speak out because they are afraid of people like the Malfoys."

"Yes." I sighed in agreement. "And I don't think the problem is getting any better...it's just as bad now as when you-know-who came to power.

"I mean, when I was working for the department of Supernatural Science at Oxford, I wrote a thesis on the origins of magic. While researching the paper I came across a profusion of scientific studies, some conducted by wizards, some by muggles, that _proved_ that wizards and muggles are, contrary to what a lot of these blood-status fanatics think, _exactly_ the same species – there are hardly any genetic differences between muggles and wizards at all. A summary of this evidence formed a substantial part of my thesis – and I concluded from it that it would be incorrect to think of magical people as a different _kind_ of being to non-magical people – I argued that magic should be considered as something human beings possess to different degrees. And I discussed the evidence that magical ability is probably something that evolved from consciousness. My argument was basically that the evolutionary advantage of consciousness was probably that it helped early humans devise ways of changing their environment to suit their desires – and really, magic is just an extension of that: all magic is is the ability to change one's environment to suit one's desires."

I suddenly stopped, aware that I had drifted away from the point I originally wanted to make and was starting to just recite my thesis.

"Sorry...I'm just reciting the book to you now..." I said and Arthur laughed.

"I don't mind at all! It sounds very interesting, I would love to read it." He said beaming, which made me blush a little.

"Well that would bring the total number of people who have read it to about two." I said grinning in spite of myself, "and that's the point I wanted to make. When the thesis was published, no-one read it. Because it contradicted so many of the beliefs held by blood-status fanatics, the book was ridiculed and very unpopular – at least among wizards. The few muggles at Oxford who read it liked it."

"Stanley Kooks would probably enjoy it." Arthur said and I laughed. Then I turned my attention to the second article: The Boy Who Lived Faces Death Again by Rita Skeeter.


	34. Rita Skeeter and MadEye Moody

Again, I'm really sorry it has taken me so long to update. I'm in my final year at Oxford now, so work is intense, and I haven't had much time to write anything other than essays. I really really really appreciate your patience, and I promise it will pay off, there is some really good stuff to come: Sirius and Lupin have to reclaim Grimauld Place, lots of yummy sexual tension between Tonks and Lupin, tragic deaths, some gruesome werewolf stuff (like as gruesome as it can be without this story ceasing to be a T - I love writing horror you see :)) It will be worth it I promise!

Chapter 34

_The Boy Who Lived Faces Death Again_

_Since it was announced last week that, rather than the traditional three, this year there will be four champions competing in the triwizard tournament being held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the fourth champion, none other than Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is coping with the task set before him with mixed emotions. The triwizard tournament is a famously fierce competition placing severe challenges on its competitors. In fact, the tournament's history is marred by the deaths of many young witches and wizards. However, this knowledge, while it makes Harry 'nervous', doesn't seem to phase the brave soul. Being so much younger than the other champions, one would expect the boy to be overwhelmed by the task in front of him, but contrary to expectations the twelve year old faces the tournament with confidence. _

"He's fourteen not twelve." I corrected out loud.

_ When asked where he get's this sturdy determination and bravery from Harry replies: "I suppose I get my strength from my parents, I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now."_

_ The tragic and brutal murder of Harry's parents at the hands of He Who Must Not Be Named, when Harry was just a baby, are of course what the young wizard is famous for. While Harry's parents were both killed by the Avarda Kedavra, little baby Harry mysteriously survived when He Who Must Not Be Named tried to use the same curse on him. As our conversation turns to Harry's parents, tears fill his startlingly green eyes. _

_ "yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it..." Harry confesses shyly. _

At this I began to loose interest. I skimmed the rest of the article – which continued on pages two six _and_ seven, where there was another large picture of Harry looking distinctly uncomfortable. He was pulling his hair down over his forehead, presumably to hide his scar and kept looking to his left as if scoping out the exits. There was very little about the tournament itself: it was mostly a gossipy and insipid account of Harry's life. Harry was depicted as some sort of sensitive but rebellious heartthrob, and the other champions were only mentioned at the very end in an undramatic 'The champion for Durmstrang is Quidditch player Victor Krum, and batting for Beauxbatons is Flo Delacour'. Poor Cedric Diggory, who was the bonefide Hogwarts champion, wasn't mentioned at all; which was a shame because he was a nice young man, clever, kind and not at all conceited, but as with a lot of Hufflepuffs rarely got the commendation he deserved. What's more I couldn't help but doubt the veracity of a lot of what was said. A lot of the things Harry allegedly confessed didn't sound at all like him – Harry was really quite self-effacing and private; he would never say something like 'I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're [his parents] watching over me...'. I voiced my opinion to Arthur.

"I'm not sure Harry would say half of the things that are written in here...I think Rita Skeeter is just making this up."

"Ah!" Arthur said, pointing his finger at my like you do when you play charades and someone gets it right. "The voice of reason. That's what I said! I told Molly it probably wasn't true. She's got all upset because it says that he cries about his parents."

"I see."

"She was worried enough about him already because of the tournament. Even thought about writing to Dumbledore hoping that he could somehow get Harry out of it." Arthur told me. "I was worried too, because he is so young: the tasks will involve magic he has no clue about. I couldn't really believe that he would even consider entering – but then he and Ron were always a bit reckless..."

"Ah, but Harry didn't enter himself!" I said.

"What?" Said Arthur his pale blue eyes suddenly round and alert. "Then who did?" I took a deep breath and for the second time wondered how much I should tell Arthur, but before I could make up my mind I heard Molly's voice come from the kitchen.

"At last where have you been!" I heard her exclaim.

"Sorry I flew here and forgot about the muggle airport south of London! A plane almost hit me as it was coming in to land! So I had to go back and loop all around London to avoid their flight-paths." I head Bill explain.

"Oh Bill you must be _careful_!" Molly scolded. "Why you can't just floo here I have no idea...so much safer...Remus Lupin is here for lunch, so mind your manners." At this I grinned sheepishly and Arthur chuckled.

"I always mind my manners mum." Bill insisted. Then I head the sound of a mother clipping her son around the ear and an amused 'ow!'.

"Keep your hands off that trifle! It is for everyone!" Molly scolded. Arthur laughed and got up. I followed him to the kitchen, where the table was laden with today's delicious looking lunch. Arthur greeted his son then I shook hands with the handsome young man.

"You know, I've not seen you since you were ten." I said and Bill grinned.

"I'm afraid I don't remember." He said cooly.

"Really?" I asked. "Your dad had brought you into work with him, and I was with James Potter?"

"Oh yeah, I remember," Bill said grinning, "James said he'd give me a sickle if I could beat him at gobstones. I did, but he never gave me that sickle." I laughed as I remembered how James and little Bill, who was known as William then, played gobstones on the floor while Arthur described to me how all the protection spells we were planning to secretly cast over the London Underground would work. Most of these spells were protection spells to stop Death Eaters from tampering with the muggle trains. That was only the second time I had ever spoken to Arthur. We saw each other quite a bit after that as Arthur was a key member of the South London Defence troop, a troop I later became commander of. The first time I met Arthur was in January 1979, at my second Order meeting.

Order meetings back then took place in an old abandoned factory just outside of York. The only way to get there was via a portkey that had been made by Dumbledore himself. Dumbledore had made a portkey for each Order member using an object that they owned and could keep on them at all times. The portkey was reusable and biosensitive, which meant that only the owner could use it and was activated with a spell as opposed to a touch like regular portkeys. My portkey was my pocket watch, which I was scrutinising carefully. I had and hour and a half until the sun set and there was no daylight left to protect me from the full moon. Sirius was sat at the large steel table opposite me, biting his nails and jiggling his leg in the most irritating manner. The lighting in the vast, largely empty, room where meetings were held was not great: the windows had had every pane painted black at some point, so the only light that came in from outside had to squeeze through chips in the paint. Sirius had enchanted an army of candles to light the room, but the corners were still shrouded in darkness and shadows covered Sirius' eyes so I couldn't quite tell if he had any idea how much he was annoying me. I was trying desperately not to say anything, because I knew my irritation was irrational. These were the days before Wolfsbane was available, so I felt the full force of the erratic emotional turbulence that preceded transformation. All day I had been ricochetting between uncontrollably irate and acutely depressed. I tried my best to keep my emotions unexpressed, but every time Sirius had slammed a door or chinked mugs together when he made a cup of tea I had flown into an inappropriate but unstoppable rage; and then when Sirius apologised and offered to make me some tea to help, I felt wracked with guilt and wanted nothing more than to slit my own throat. Right now anger was winning control over my mind and I could hear a wolf roaring in the back of my head. I scowled at Sirius who pulled off broken parts of his nails and flicked them onto the floor completely oblivious of my desire to bite his throat, to break his vile humanity. Suddenly an early pre-transformation twitch took hold of the left side of my body. My shoulder jerked up towards my face and my left hand tensed into a claw. Sirius looked up sharply his eyes suddenly bright and aware.

"What's the time?" he asked his voice serious and slightly nervous.

"It's three minutes past four," I said checking my watch for the hundredth time, "don't worry that wasn't it starting...that was just..." that was just me letting the wolf's thoughts into my head when I should be trying to keep them out! The wolf's anger subsided and my own guilt and fear replaced it. Sirius just nodded sympathetically. I hated this. I was normally so calm, logical and even-tempered. It felt so unsafe when my emotions were so volatile. I breathed out slowly and started to count in my head, but when I got to five...

"No! It's no good. I have to have some more." I exclaimed loudly.

"What?" Sirius asked me. "What are you talking about?" I ignored him and took a small blue bottle from the inside pocket of my robes. I put the bottle on the table then asked Sirius if I could borrow one of his silver cloak fastenings.

"Is that Beke Ital?" Sirius asked me pointing to the potion bottle. Beke Ital was the predecessor of the modern day Draught of Peace. It did the same job as the Draught of Peace, i.e. it calmed one's emotions, but unlike the draught of peace it had to be vaporised and inhaled rather than drunk, and it had more adverse side effects. The worst of which was that it was very addictive. I took it for the few days leading up to the full moon to try and curtail these terrible mood swings. I tried to stick to just one dose a day, but it was difficult.

"Yes it is." I said shortly giving him a don't-you-dare-say-anything stare. "May I borrow your cloak fastening? I need a spoon." I added my voice straining with forced politeness.

"If I say no will you hex me?" Sirius asked with a pitying stare. I said nothing but the tension must have shown in my face, as Sirius sighed and took off his cloak handing my the silver fastening. I pointed my wand at the silver gadget and transfigured it into a desert spoon. I poured out a spoonful of the Beke Ital and used my wand to gently heat it. Soon vapours of the potion began to rise from the spoon and towards my nostrils. I breathed in deeply and soon felt the tenseness leave my body and a pleasant relaxed feeling replace it.

"You're going to get addicted to that stuff." Sirius warned me.

"No I'm not." I replied impatiently, as I closed my eyes and let the fumes deluge my lungs.

"Yeah you are. You've already started carrying it around with you." Sirius argued. I glanced up at Sirius so that I could see his concerned eyes.

"I just can't stand it's thoughts..." I mumbled vaguely. I don't know if Sirius knew what I meant, because he didn't say anything, he just watched my breathe in the Beke Ital with worried disapproval.

A moment later, with a quiet pop, James appeared in the middle of the large bare room. A second later so did his wife. James swaggered over to Sirius and slapped his hand against his shoulder. Lily quietly came at sat down next to Sirius.

"Is that Beke Ital?" She asked looking at the smoking spoon.

"Yes." Sirius replied for me. "Moony's feeling a bit grouchy."

"Oh dear." James said loudly sitting down on Sirius' other side.

"You'll get addicted to that stuff you know." Lily informed me and I gave her a strained smile.

"I'm being careful." I said before sucking the stuff into my lungs like my life depended on it.

"Does it even work?" James asked, but I didn't answer. The last of the potion evaporated from the spoon and even through it's calming fog I could still hear the wolf howling in the back of my mind. It didn't really work, at most it relaxed me a little bit, but that was about it, it didn't change the fact that there was a monster in me preparing to break free. But, I couldn't tell James this. With another faint pop Peter appeared and was noisily greeted by the others.

"Alright mate?" James asked him, "the attack near Victoria didn't shake you too much?"

"I'm okay." Peter said, though he didn't look it. His hair was dirty looking and his eyes were fixed on the floor. Peter joined the Order when James and Lily did which was about two months ago, and all three of them had had it tough since. Lily had been cornered in Diagon Alley and had to fight her way free from the clutches of six Death Eaters. James had been pressured to change sides and 'be true to his blood status'. And Peter had moved home four times fearing that the Death Eaters, who regarded him as a blood traiter, were hunting him down. Sirius and I too were on the top of some Death Eater's hit lists: Sirius was wanted by his Death Eater family, especially his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, and had been in a few fights with her already; and both sides saw me as a half-human half-blood freak for whom death was more than I deserved; I had made a particular enemy of Antonin Dolohov as I had thwarted his attempt to kill my mother and father, rendering him partially blind in the process. Still these sorts of things were happening to everyone.

Peter walked round the table and sat down next too me. He picked up the blue bottle of potion and sniffed it a little.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asked, and Lily nodded. "You'll get addicted to that."

"I know!" I exclaimed impatiently snatching the bottle back and stuffing it back in my robes.

"Alright! Alright!" Peter said holding his hands up in surrender.

"Merlin Moony, this temper of yours...Thank Morgana it's only once a month..." Sirius said shaking his head while James grinned.

"You're just like a women!" James added chuckling, while Lily tried to reach around a cackling Sirius so that she could clip James' ear.

"Please don't compare symptoms of lycanthropy to those of the menstrual cycle, it's so emasculating." I told James seriously.

"'cos you were so masculine before..." Sirius said sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a patronising glare.

"It might be a virginity reference..." Peter informed me with a small teasing smile and wiggle of his thick eyebrows. I scowled at my sniggering friends.

"Sexual experience is not the mark of masculinity!" I defended pointing a finger at Sirius who just grinned inanely. In irritation, I threw the spoon at him. Unfortunately, Sirius ducked just as Arthur Weasley (although at the time I didn't know it was him) appeared in the Order meeting room. The spoon was heading straight for his face, so I drew my wand as fast as lighting and yelled

"Arresto!" it being the first spell that came to mind. The spoon stopped in mid air, a centimetre from Arthur's face. Arther just smiled faintly and plucked the spoon out of the air.

"I'm so sorry sir!" I expressed jumping up from my seat and approaching Arthur, "I was aiming at him." I added pointing an accusing finger at a giggling Sirius.

"Not to worry...I've had more dangerous objects thrown at me than I spoon I assure you." Arthur said cheerfully and I cursed the fact that it was impossible to dissapparate from the Order meeting room. Arthur surreptitiously sniffed the spoon he was holding.

"Is that...Beke Ital?" He asked, and again I wished I could disappear.

"Yes." I admitted, while Sirius, James and Peter continued to laugh at me. "It's...er, for my health." I added, sounding like a complete idiot.

"I see." Arthur said diplomatically as he handed me back the spoon. "I don't think we've met, I'm Arthur Weasley." Arthur added with a warm smile.

"Remus Lupin." I returned sheepishly. Arthur shook my hand politely.

"Beke Ital is quite addictive you know." Arthur said with a look of genuine concern. The other three marauders hissed and spluttered with laughter, while I said nothing. I was completely certain that, after that meeting, Arthur thought I was some sort of irresponsible drug addict. Luckily for me, Arthur didn't think this at all.

I was drawn out of my reminiscing by Molly announcing:

"Right everyone let's eat before it gets cold!"

Dining with the Weasley's was always a pleasant experience. It had been years since I had had dinner with them, in fact since the Order of the Phoenix disbanded after the fall of Voldemort I have not seen them very much at all. But, in a good way, it felt like no time had passed. Arthur and Molly are both intelligent, kind and passionate people so it is invigorating to discuss things like politics and sociology and family with them. What's more, unlike most people I interact with on a day-to-day basis, they always seem genuinely interested in my opinion – in fact they are genuinely interested in everyone's opinion, to the Weasley's no-one's opinion doesn't matter. And it is nice to feel like you are interesting.

There is one thing however, that detracts from the overall pleasantness of being in Molly and Arthur's company – it is not anything huge, but it causes an unhappy longing of tug at the back of my eyes and the back of my throat. Being in the Weasley's home, which is so family orientated, and seeing them happy together reminds me of my own family: my parents. I'm reminded when Arthur smiles at his wife as if reminding her of that special secret they have, of they way my father used to smile at my mother. My father was a reserved man, but when it came to my mother it was always quite obvious how much he loved her. And my mother adored him just as much. I was very lucky to have parents who were so happy together. And being at the Weasleys reminded me of how much I missed them still. My father died when I was twenty, and although that was fourteen years ago, I do still miss him from time to time. My father was a historian, so an academic like myself, and sometimes I think of things that I think would interest him and I feel a deep regret that I cannot talk to him about it. My mother I miss in quite a different way. It doesn't take anything to remind me that I miss her. I just miss her.

While we ate we continued to discuss Rita Skeeter's article about Harry Potter. Arther questioned me about how I knew that Harry didn't put his name into the goblet of fire himself, and asked me who I thought would have. I told them that I didn't know, but that whomever they were they weren't a friend to Harry. At this Molly put her hands anxiously over her mouth and let out a very worried 'oh poor Harry'.

"Do you think perhaps they just want him to get killed in the tournament?" Bill asked, "because, if they did, they had the right idea: the first task is dragons."

"Dragons! Oh merlin!" Molly exclaimed.

"What do they have to do?" I asked while Arthur asked, "How do you know?". Bill looked at the two of us wondering whose question to answer first.

"Charlie told me," Bill said, "And I think they have to steal one of the Dragon's eggs."

"Bloody Hell." I said as Molly cried "How is _one_ wizard supposed to do that?".

Bill shrugged "I dunno, it's for the champions to work out."

"I can't believe Dumbledore is letting Harry do this..." Molly said with a anxious shake of his head. I didn't have the heart to tell her Dumbledore was letting Harry compete to find out what would happen.

"Do you know anything about the other tasks?" I asked Bill, who shook his head.

"I'm afraid I don't. I'm not even supposed to know about the dragons." Bill told me. There was a heavy silence as none of us really knew what to say, we were all equally powerless.

"Moody will keep an eye on him." Arthur said reassuringly.

"Yes, whoever is responsible will have a hard time hurting Harry while he's around." Bill added.

"You know, Ron said in his letter that Moody's doing unforgivable curses with them." Molly said frowning slightly.

"With the fourth years?" I questioned, "bit intense isn't it?"

"Well you know how Moody is..." Commented Arthur.

"I wrote to him, in September," I said, "and told him that the 4th and 5th years were behind in curses but I didn't think he'd throw them straight in the deep end."

"I'm not too happy about it either, but they've got to learn about them eventually I suppose." Said Arthur while he rubbed his chin in thought.

"But they're only kids!" Molly objected, "and he's not just telling them about the curse, Ron said he's _training_ them to throw off the imperius curse..."

"He's actually _performing_ them on fourth years?" I asked sitting forward in my chair slightly. "I left that till the seventh year. Fourteen year olds surely wont have the strength of mind to be able to resist an imperious curse. When I taught the seventh years how to, only one or two of them managed it."

The imperius curse was the only unforgivable curse I have ever been able to cast effectively. During the war I did attempt the avada kedavra, but I was never successful. And I have never tried the cruciatus curse. I didn't perform either of these curses for the seventh years when I covered the topic, I just described them. I didn't feel comfortable performing them. Especially the cruciatus curse, I'm not even sure I could do that to a spider. People say that the killing curse is the worst of the three, but to my mind the cruciatus curse is the worst. The avada kedavra kills you in seconds and it is painless. My father was killed by two Death Eaters who used a curse that caused many of his organs to rupture, and he died because blood filled his lungs and he drowned. A thought that still makes me feel sick with anger. Compared to that, the avada kedavra seems humane. The cruciatus curse however, is the ultimate form of torture. There is nothing more painful.

"Apparently Harry can almost resist it." Molly said and I raised my eyebrows feeling impressed.

"Well, if he can resist the imperius curse perhaps we need not worry about him competing in the tournament."


	35. Not Really A Date

Here's the next chapter, I hope it doesn't seem to rushed, there was a lot of stuff I wanted to get into it.

Chapter 35

"All ready then?" Sirius asked me. He stood in my kitchen dressed in the black jeans and grey sweatshirt he had stolen from me, and the tattered coat he had had since Azkaban. He was thin and tired looking, and his eyes were steely and apprehensive, and not at all like his own. He didn't want to go back. His parents house was was full of painful angry memories for him, and I knew he would prefer to sleep in a cardboard box under a bridge than go back there. But it really was the safest place. The aurors would not be able to touch him there. I looked at him and set a determined expression upon my face.

"Yes." I said. "I've brushed up on counter-curses and hexes and I even did a little research on your family to see if there were any clues as to what curses they might put on the house."

"You're such a nerd." Sirius said smirking ever so slightly.

"Well if you don't want me to help you..." I said with a raised eyebrow and a teasing lilt.

"Fine fine...lets go..." Sirius said as he adjusted his coat. I stood next to him, and we disapparated at the same time.

We landed in the gardens of Grimmauld Place. Although it was a mainly a muggle area, it was so foggy I could hardly see a foot in front of my face, so I wasn't worried about anyone seeing us. Sirius headed towards the gated exit of the garden, unlocking it with a spell, and I followed. I felt the cold penetrate my cloak and scratch at my skin. I knew this December would be a bitter one as when I transformed in November, I found that I had grown a particularly thick winter coat.

Two full moons fell in November and I spent both of them at the ministry locked in a cage. Sadly, Anthony didn't show up for either moon. I asked about him, but the ministry didn't know where he was; he had broken his parole, so to speak. I felt quite disappointed by this, in the same way that I felt disappointed when a bright student threw away his talent for something stupid like drugs or to be popular; now that Anthony had done this, if the ministry ever did catch up with him, they'd never let him be free now. I wrote a letter to him, asking if I could help, advising him to come back. I wasn't sure whether Artemis would be able to find Anthony if the ministry couldn't, but she was normally quite good at finding people when I didn't know their address. However, I was never able to send the letter as Artemis became very ill in November. I took her to the Owlery in Diagon Alley, but, as I suspected, the Owler told me that it was just old age and there was nothing really anyone could do. He gave me some potion for her which would relieve any pain, and I took her home. I let her sleep in my room where it was nice and warm, and gave her the potion twice a day as instructed; but she wouldn't eat at all, and she died just two days later. I wouldn't say I'm a particularly sentimental person, but I had had Artemis since I was nine, so I think I can be forgiven for getting a bit tearful when I buried her in my garden. With her gone, my house was for a lot of the time absolutely silent, and I felt truly alone.

My lonely feelings did not abate as November progressed. Probably because I didn't have a job to keep my mind off the fact that my life was so empty. And loveless. It had been almost two years since I was last with a woman, which is a long time even for me, and I was beginning to ache for that feeling of closeness, however temporary and superficial it may be. Though of course what I really wanted was to be in love again. I couldn't help myself, I liked being in love; and I loved being loved. Probably too much. But my 'furry little problem' had tainted every relationship I'd ever had in one way or another, and that was never going to go away. I'd learnt the hard way that as as much as I like being in love, I like not being heartbroken better. My life was much easier devoid of romantic entanglements. But no matter how rational it was for me to avoid love affairs, I still felt lonely.

Perhaps this was why I asked Tonks to have lunch with me. Perhaps it was loneliness that drove me to do something so stupid. But I'm getting ahead of myself. After the second full moon of November, I appealed to have the trace lifted and for me not to have to come to the ministry for every full moon. My appeal was held in a small meeting room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Hundreds of parchment papers stacked up in irregular and unstable towers lined the walls of this room, and some some of these towers had collapsed and their component papers formed a kind of messy carpet. Neither Amelia Bones nor Kazak of the werewolf capture unit, who presided over my hearing, seemed at all concerned by the disorder of the room, they just walked over the papers without a blink. Miss Umbridge however, seemed to find the room particularly repugnant, but I got the impression that she would not have expected anything different from the disorganised and (in Umbridge's opinion) disturbingly unceremonious department of magical law enforcement. My appeal was granted despite Miss Umbridge's vehement attempts to prevent it. She didn't have a case though, Kazak couldn't deny that I hadn't been cooperative, and I still had the horribly itchy and sore rash from the aconite test to prove that I had been taking wolfsbane, what's more I think Amelia agreed that the ministry's treatment of werewolves was inequitable and hence understood why I never wanted to sign the werewolf registry in the first place.

After my appeal was over, everyone got up to leave; I was closest to the door, and so held it open for the others. Umbridge left first in an angry flurry of pink tweed, and shot me a glance that effectively told me she thought I was a desease she would devote her life to stamp out. Once Umbridge was gone Amelia told me that she suspected her department would probably get a lot of aggravation from Umbridge's department because I had been granted my freedom.

"She has a serious issue with anyone half human." Amelia told me, and I internally shuddered at the thought that I was only part human, "she's been pressuring our department for ages to be more severe on werewolves, but the law is the law. Sadly, that wont pacify her...she'll take her revenge out on me for letting you off I'm sure..."

"I'm very sorry about that Amelia." I said, "I feel responsible."

"Oh don't worry about it Remus." Amelia said with a wave of her hand as we walked through the Auror offices on the way to the lifts. I sneaked glances over the forrest of desks and partitioned cubicles just in case I spotted a flash of bright pink hair. But I couldn't see her. Amelia and I parted ways outside her office, she bid me goodbye and went inside while I continued to the lifts.

I made my way back to the eight floor, and was heading towards the large double doors that led back into the atrium when I noticed a group of people coming up from the stairs that lead to the Department of Mysteries. There were four of them all carrying armfuls of parchments in blue leather folders. I noticed they were all wearing the small silver shield that aurors wore so naturally my attention was then focussed on the pretty girl in figure-hugging black jeans with rips in the knees. As always she looked different, her nose was more pointed today and her cheekbones slightly sharper, her hair was long and black and tied back in a messy ponytail; but her mouth was as perfectly kissable as ever so I knew it was her. She did not look happy. The other three aurors, who were all male, seemed to be teasing her though I'm not entirely sure what about.

"Can you make it tighter then?" One boy said with an ugly leer on his face.

"Look just piss off!" Tonks spat at them her face turning a little pink. The boys just laughed and then poor Tonks slipped on the polished wooden floor and dropped the ground. The folders she was holding flew out of her arms and the hundreds of papers within them spewed out all over the floor. The three other aurors all burst out laughing and made some crack about her being too clumsy to make a good lover. Tonks ignored them and began to magically reorganise the papers. I saw her stare determinedly at the floor and bite her lip.

"Are none of you going to help her?" I asked loudly walking towards them. "Of three trained aurors, I would have expected at least one of you to have some decency. I'm sure Rufus Scrimgeour would be disappointed to learn that three of his employees have not even mastered basic manners."

My teacher voice seemed to work as reluctantly the three aurors took out their wands and began to help Tonks. I too bent down to help her and as I did she looked up at me. I smiled in greeting and her dark blue eyes, that had moments ago seemed so defeated, bloomed with surprise.

"What are you doing here?" She exclaimed brightly.

"It was my appeal today." I said with a smile.

"Oh yes! I knew that." She said letting her colleges continue to pick up her papers for her. "Did it go okay?"

"It was fine, I'm a free man."

Tonks smiled and I felt like she had kissed me. It was astounding how happy I felt when I saw that smile.

"I'm so glad. I still feel so guilty 'cos it was my fault you ended up in this mess." Tonks said as she stood up.

"You were just doing your job." I said and Tonks shrugged. The other aurors then handed Tonks back her files and scuttled off to the lifts casting curious glances at me, although I wasn't really paying much attention to them. Instead I looked at Tonks' pretty heart-shaped face and remembered what had occurred in Germany. How she had turned up just as Leohnard's court of vampires attacked. How Leohnard had tried to bite her. How she had seen me half transformed, and the look on her face...she had looked so horrified and shocked. I had no way of knowing what she really thought of me now that she knew what I was. She had never acted as if my lycanthropy bothered her a great deal, but that didn't mean she wasn't secretly afraid of me, that she didn't see a monster when she looked at me.

But she _had_ said, when I asked her in the forrest, that she wasn't afraid of me. As I looked at the smooth contours of her cheeks and the pink colour of her lips I relived what had happened when she found me injured and weak and dressed in the stolen blood-stained robes of a Death Eater. I remembered how fast my heart had pounded when she took off my robes to treat the stab wound in my abdomen. I remembered how she had put her arm around me to support me as the bandage wrapped around my waist. I remembered the feel of her bare palm against my naked back. And how close she had got when she cast the analgesic charm. Close enough for me to feel her breath on my lips.

I felt my temperature rise and my heart-rate hasten and knew that my eyes had taken on that dark golden colour they do whenever I think about these sorts of things. But thankfully Tonks hadn't seemed to notice. She levitated the folders she had been holding so that they hovered in the air, leaving both her hands free to undo her pony tail. Her long soft hair fell around her face and I cursed myself. I was not supposed to feel this for her anymore. I was too old for her, and too diseased. I heard Leohnard's words in my head: _She would never be attracted to someone so old, so broken, so unsuccessful. You will only hurt her just like you hurt everyone else! _It was so wrong for me to be so attracted to her, but then she ran her fingers through her hair, and the strands her fingers touched changed from black to lilac and I couldn't help but feel enchanted.

She tied back her now lilac streaked hair and looked at me.

"I'm sorry I didn't come today." She said looking at little awkward.

"I wouldn't have expect you to." I said feeling mightily confused.

"I know, but that's why I should have come." She said not looking me in the eyes, which was irritating because if I could have looked into her eyes I might have been able to work out what the heck she meant. "I've been meaning to...I've wanted to...talk to you."

"You have?" I said surprised and intrigued.

"Yeah, um, I don't know..." She blushed and grabbed the folders out of the air for something to do. "What happened in Germany..." I suddenly felt very tense, like someone had just begun to dual with me.

"I think about it a lot, what happened I mean. You saved my life..." Tonks took her eyes from the floor she had been staring intently at to look at my directly.

"You saved mine." I said.

"Well two people don't go through that sort of thing and not be friends after."

"I don't know if that's true, particularly in the case of aurors, I'm sure you've saved lots of lives but you are not friends with all of those people." I said.

"No-one else has saved _my_ life though." Tonks insisted. "I feel indebted to you."

"I don't understand why." I argued, "you more than returned the favour." Tonks wrinkled her nose and looked uncomfortable but apparently didn't want to say anymore. So that's when, I foolishly jumped in with

"Have lunch with me."

I don't know what made me say it. She looked back at me with surprise and said,

"There _is_ a cheese and pickle sandwich in the fridge upstairs with my name on..." but then she grinned, "but I guess I can save that till tomorrow. Let me just dump these files upstairs and I'll be right down."

So I went to lunch with her. We didn't go anywhere special, just a little cafe on a tiny hidden alley, not far from the employee's entrance to the ministry and we both had the soup of the day (carrot and coriander served with a hunk of warm homemade bread). It didn't really feel like a date; I was too relaxed. It was incredibly easy to enjoy Tonks' company. I loved the way she spoke. For one thing, she had a great voice, it was very soft and expressive (she was probably a good singer) and for another, not only did she have lots of interesting and intelligent ideas, she was expert at articulating them. She was logical and engaging and persuasive. I got the feeling that if ever we got into an argument I would have to work very hard to win. Also she was bloody funny. She had the same sort of sarcastic, sly humour that Sirius did, though it was a bit more self-deprecating.

Tonks questioned me about what I had been up to since she last saw me, and I regretfully had to tell her that I'd been doing virtually nothing. She insisted that she didn't believe me and asked if I had written any papers, which was a strange question for her to ask: firstly, because I had no idea she know I had worked as a philosopher, and secondly, because I would never have expected her to be in any way interested. But she was, especially about the stuff on consciousness and its relationship with magical ability that I had written. She found my refutation of the blood-status fanatic's argument that muggles and wizards were separate species that I had included in my thesis particularly interesting.

"You've read my thesis?" I asked the soup in the spoon that had been on the way to my mouth splashing back into the bowl as a result of my surprise. Tonks' cheeks turned pink and then a second later turned pale again as if she had purposefully morphed the blush away.

"Yeah, I er, found it in the Bowman library."

"Really? It's in there?" The Bowman Wright Library was the largest wizarding library in Europe. It was a beautiful grand castle in Gloucestershire where I had spent many weeks studying. I had even slept there a few times as during my twenties, after the Potters were killed and Sirius sent to Azkaban, I often found myself without permanent residence.

"Only one copy...and it's...well it took me ages to find it 'cos it's just been shoved at the back underneath some books about transfiguration theory..." At this I laughed.

"I'm astounded it's even in there. It was very unpopular."

"Only been because it made pure-blood fanatics look stupid...and rightly so." Tonks gave me a lopsided grin and her sudden resemblance to her mischievous cousin was remarkable. I grinned back and felt a tugging in my abdomen that I knew was wrong but felt so nice. Then Tonks told me about the anti-muggle extremists that had been giving demonstrations lately, that she had had to monitor and investigate. Then she talked about her family, and the unfortunate things she had to deal with growing up just because she had a muggle-born father. From that we moved on to talk about our childhoods in general. Hers was very different to mine. She lived in London until she was five, then, when the first wizarding war started to get serious her family moved to Paris where they remained until Tonks started Hogwarts. So while I was riding horses and running through muddy fields in Ireland, Tonks was riding bicycles alone the Seine, and learning French spells from her friends while they ate crêpes near the Sacre Coeur. However we had some things in common: she was also an only child, and like myself, she had to live with having something different about her that other people didn't understand.

She confessed that at Hogwarts she was teased something terrible for being a metamorphagus, and she didn't have a lot of friends outside Hufflepuff because of it. At school it never bothered her though: she knew it was only because the other kids didn't really understand it, and she could usually win them over by showing them that it was something cool rather than scary. But this didn't work on adults. Tonks hardly knew what to do when people yelled 'freak' at her in the middle of Diagon Alley. Or when she was objectified and harassed by men because of it. She hated that they saw it as some sort of gimmick, or worse a fetish. I realised when she told me this that this is what her colleagues had been doing when I saw them near the lifts. I felt furious on her behalf, but also slightly guilty, because her being a metamorphagus was part of what I found so attractive about her. I thought her metamorphing ability was fascinating and exciting, but I didn't want to have anything in common to a man who would distort something so wonderful about her into the object of some bizarre sexual fixation.

After that, I asked Tonks, as innocently as I could, if she was seeing anyone. She smiled at me, that devastatingly sexy smile of hers, and shook her head.

"What happened to, er, Tom was it?" I said, although I remembered his name perfectly well. I sipped the coffee to add to my facade of nonchalance.

"He said I worked too much." She said with a would-be apathetic shrug. "I've been on like, a thousand dates since..." she added looking slightly regretful at this fact, "and they've all been nice, kind and sweet and everything, but...I don't know...there wasn't any spark, you know?"

I put down my coffee, nodded understandingly and pretended to know what she meant.

"I didn't look at any of them and..." She said her voice sounding the way velvet feels. I looked at her eyes and watched them change from dark blue to gold, the colour of my own eyes. "I didn't look at any of them and want to...make love with them right there."

She looked at me so directly when she said that. Did that mean anything? Or was I just being hopeful? Was I seeing things that weren't there? Her eyes were still gold and still fixed on me, and I felt pressured to say something. I felt a burning feeling in my chest at the thought that she might be flirting with me, but while it felt nice, more than that it frightened me.

"I'm sure you'll find the right person." I said in the emotionless voice I adopted whenever I wanted to hide my feelings. Tonks' eyes slowly turned from gold to grey and she nodded in a formal sort of way. After that I changed the topic quickly. We talked about Harry accomplishing the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and I silently hated myself for letting this mild crush I had on her become slightly less mild.

Sirius had turned up announced a few weeks later to ask me if I could help him reclaim his parents house. Sirius was particularly anxious to be in by Christmas. He was insistant that he stay in the country to be nearer Harry. Apparently Sirius had been in Hogsmeade and spoken to Harry, and was convinced that the Voldemort's spy, the one I had heard about in Germany, was at Hogwarts. Sirius seemed to think it was Karkaroff.

"Karkaroff? You really think so?" I said with some disbelief.

"He's the perfect candidate isn't he? He can use the Triwizard Tournament as an alibi if it doesn't go according to plan, he's a bloody horrible man and a Death Eater." Sirius had insisted.

"He _was_ a Death Eater."

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." Sirius argued with scarily angry eyes.

"I don't know, Karkaroff has too much to loose if he gets caught. I don't think he took over Durmstrang just on a whim, that is his career now, he's invested a lot of time and energy into it, and he'd loose all that if he got caught."

"But if Voldemort's _asked_ him to do it, then he would not have been able to say 'oh sorry my Lord, but I've actually got quite a peachy job now, I'd rather just see how that pans out'."

"You may have a point there."

"Of course I bloody do. So will you help me break into Grimmauld Place, I need somewhere safe to stay?"

"Yes I'll help you."

So, that about explains how I came to be standing in the middle of cold foggy london with Sirius preparing to break into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.


	36. Noble And Most Ancient House Of Black

OK, a few things to say:

1) sorry it has been AGES since I last updated, this is partly because I've been really busy with work and partly because the site hasn't been working for me for a while! :(

2) THANK YOU for being so patient! I feel like this story has got a bit rubbish lately, but I think that's just cos I've been really busy with work. But there is some really good stuff to come: Lots more Sirius, and Tonks will come into it more soon as it's not long until the Order rebands. Also, it's about time Remus got a new job.

Chapter 36

Sirius and I stood looking up at the drainpipe that snaked down from the roof and between number 11 and number 13 of Grimmauld Place. Through a window of number 11 I could see a young muggle woman, her eyes fixed to a television set. All the lights of number 13 were off so I guessed the muggles inside were all asleep. Between these two houses was nothing. Nothing but the drainpipe that is. There was no sign that there might be another house hidden there somewhere.

"What do we do?" Sirius asked me after we had stood in the cold staring silently at the row of terraced houses for a good fifteen minutes.

"I don't know. I thought you would know." I said with a vague shrug.

"Why would _I_ know?" Sirius said holding out his hands to emphasise his lack of responsibility.

"Well because..." I struggled, "you said you were the rightful owner. You were Regulus' next of kin so the house should be yours."

"Yeah, but you were the one who said that the rightful owner should be able to access the house. You were the one who made _that_ connection." Sirius argued back. I opened my mouth and pointed a finger at him, but no arguments sprung to mind. Sirius was right, I was the one who thought that the reason the house was hidden was because it was waiting to be claimed; just because Sirius was that rightful owner didn't mean he knew what he had to do to make the house reveal itself. I closed my mouth and let my hand drop back to my side.

"Is that it? Do you not have any ideas? You said you read up on curses and my family and stuff, you must be able to think of something." Sirius said putting his hands into his tattered robes.

"I'm slightly annoyed that you were banking on me to come up with everything." I said with my eyes narrowed. Sirius threw his hands back into the air and shrugged.

"I was busy! I was on the run...looking after my godson..."

"Maybe there is an incantation." I interrupted gesturing back to the drainpipe where number 12 would be. "Maybe you have to ask the house to reveal itself."

"Alright..." Sirius said also turning to look at the drainpipe. He cleared his throat. "Noble and most ancient house of Black – Sirius Orion Black, the man who owns your vile precinct, has come to claim you." He said loudly and disdainfully. Nothing happened.

"Maybe since my family disowned me, the house doesn't recognise me as a family member." Sirius suggested looking rather irritated.

"No, it has to." I said, "the house is connected to you via very deep magic, that a simple disowning wouldn't cancel out. You still have Black blood in you, and it's blood the house is connected to."

"Maybe you should try being less sarcastic." I added in as neutral a voice as I could manage.

"Less sarcastic? It's a bloody house." Sirius professed his cheeks going slightly red with anger. He clearly hated just being near number 12, and asking him to speak to that house politely was like asking Voldemort to make Dumbledore a cup of tea. Sirius gave a grumpy sigh and tried again.

"Noble and most ancient house of Black, Sirius the 3rd, the heir to the Black fortune or whatever, has come to claim you – so, reveal yourself!" Sirius shouted at the drain pipe. Again nothing happened.

"That wasn't much better."

"What do you want from me Moony? Do you want me to curtsey? To get on my knees? To kiss the bloody drain pipe?" Sirius ranted.

"Alright alright..." I said holding up a hand to calm him down. "Maybe we should try some spells." I added hopefully. Sirius rolled his eyes but got out his wand. We tried every vaguely relevant spell we could think of, revealing charms, opening charms, unlocking charms, battering hexes, blasting curses, moving spells. Any muggle watching us would think we were absolutely barmy, shouting latinate words at nothing while waving sticks about. The most we achieved however was to blast a hole in the drainpipe causing sludgy brown water to rain down on us.

"Nice." Sirius hissed as he wiped his wet hair out of his face.

"Oh dear." I contributed.

"Right. I've had enough of this. NUMBER TWELVE!" Sirius shouted at the top of his voice while he walked around in a small circle and held both of his arms out, looking just like a shakespearian hero in the middle of an angry pre-battle speech. "Whether you like it or not you execrable edifice I _own_ you! Here that? You are mine! So show yourself, unless you want to remain uninhabited for the rest of eternity!"

Silence followed, and I thought that perhaps we would just have to give up, but then there was a deep grumble followed by a low creaking sound. Sirius and I exchanged questioning looks. Then the drain pipe shuddered and split in two. The two halves moved away from each other and morphed into two twin drainpipes which continued to move apart. Between them dull grey bricks, tall sash windows, rusted wrought iron railings and an imposing front door materialised with cracks and creaks. Sirius and I both stared at number twelve. I glanced at Sirius to examine his expression. He looked like someone who was looking at a murder victim: a mixture of horror, fear and disgust. He sighed and I looked back at the house.

"See?" Sirius said, his voice deliberately nonchalant.

"See what?"

"Just gotta show it who's boss." Sirius concluded and he strode towards his ancestral home. I shrugged and followed. We stood outside the large front door, which had no handle, or key-hole, or letter box, or anything that would reveal it as a door apart from a silver doorbell in the shape of a twisted serpent. Sirius tried to open the front door with a spell but the house again just ignored him. Sirius groaned and rang the doorbell.

"Who do you think is going to answer?" I asked slightly incredulously.

"Dunno. Kreacher?"

"Who?"

"The house elf." Sirius admitted like he was confessing some regretful past sin. "I don't know if he'll be there. Actually he's probably dead." Suddenly the serpent on the doorbell wriggled. Its carved silver body twisted and Sirius took a step back in shock. Tiny little black eyes appeared on the snake's head then it opened its mouth and hissed.

"Sirius Orion Black?" The snake asked in a deep male voice that I recognised and which made me shiver. It was the voice of Sirius' father, the voice that reminded me of the devil.

"Yes." Sirius said.

"Confirmation by blood is required." The snake said before opening its mouth wide and sticking out a long thin silver tongue. Sirius looked at me with a slightly abhorrent expression.

"Does that mean what I think I means?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"Sounds exactly like the sort of loathsome ritual a Black would dream up." Sirius commented with a twisted mirthless smile. I pulled a face but didn't say anything, because it _did_ sound exactly like the sort of loathsome ritual a Black would dream up. Sirius took out his wand and pointed it at his outstretched index finger.

"Secare." He said and a small cut appeared on his finger from which a bead of blood swelled. Sirius then held his finger over the snake's tongue and shook his bloodied finger so that a drop fell on it's silver surface. The snake pulled its tongue back into its mouth and Sirius healed his finger. The snake considered Sirius's blood offering for a few minutes then it raised its head to the level of Sirius' eyes and in Orion Black's sinister voice it said:

"Very well, Sirius, the house is yours. But although you own this house don't expect it to be welcoming."

The silver snake then twisted itself around back the doorbell, its black eyes vanished and it became inanimate once more. Then the door began to fade and soon it had completely vanished revealed the long narrow hallway beyond. I could not see the end of this hall way as no light came from it. The meagre light that filtered through the fog from the streetlights illuminated a small part of the tiled floor (at least I think it was tiled, there was at least an inch of dust carpeted over the top of it) and sections of the silk-lined walls, but other than that the corridor was a tunnel into pitch darkness. I could tell that Sirius was just as apprehensive as I was but we both stepped inside. The door reappeared behind us and shut us in darkness.

"Lumos." We both said at the same time. Sirius waved his wand over the oil lamps that lined the hallway lighting them, and under their dull glow we saw that the house was dusty, damaged and dilapidating but apart from some ominous creaking, there was nothing obviously dangerous about the place.

"Doesn't look that bad so far." I remarked casually.

"We're only in the hall. There's a whole house to go." Sirius said pessimistically as he glanced at the paintings of surly witches and wizards mounted on horses or dressed in armour and red velvet cloaks. I fingered the rips and holes in the silk wallpaper as I passed, and noticed a few shining pearlescent eggs nested in some of them. As soon as I recognised the eggs I withdrew my fingers sharply and was careful not to touch them.

"You've got Pogrebin eggs in the wallpaper!" I told Sirius with some surprise. Pogrebins were nasty little creatures that look like furry rocks when they hatch. They follow people around and fill them with hopelessness and apathy until that person just lies down and waits to die at which point the Pogrebin sneaks up and slowly eats them. They were most dangerous when they hatched of course, but their eggs can give you instant and serious frostbite if you touch them. Pogrebins were usually only found in Russia and other cold Eurasian countries, so I was surprised to find them here – and so many!

"We should collect them, we'd make a bloody fortune!" I suggested thinking of my overdue mortgage payments.

"Collect them?" Sirius remarked as if I were mad, "We should burn the bloody things." I opened my mouth to argue then promptly shut it again as I was about to walk into a spider's web and didn't want to get spider's silk in my mouth. Sirius had turned a corner a little way ahead so I wiped away the cobweb and caught up with him.

Sirius was standing in the small but grand entrance all at the end of the hallway. There were two doors leading off the entrance hall, one on the north wall one on the south; a flight of stairs with a mahogany banister lead to the upper floors towards the east, and on the north wall was an ageing mirror above a wooden side table with claws for feet. Next to the side table was an incredibly ugly troll's foot that had been fashioned into an umbrella stand. I stood next to this grotesque piece of furniture while Sirius gazed up at the crystal chandelier. Cobwebs and what looked like bat droppings hung from the tear-shaped crystals.

Adorning the walls were portraits of Sirius' family, the most prominent of which was a life-size portrait of Walburga Black. The hateful woman was asleep, just like all the other portraits. With a curled lip Sirius approached his mother's portrait and examined her aged face. She looked about 40 in the picture, but Walburga always looked older than she actually was so she was probably only 30 when the picture was painted. Walburga Black was a strange looking woman. There was nothing particularly unattractive about her when you considered her features apart from the expressions she formed with them and the vileness of her character. Her face was long with sharp cheekbones and a slightly masculine jaw, she had very dark narrow eyes, and dark but quite full lips. Together all those features did not make an unattractive woman, but her permanent scowl served to emphasise every crease in her skin; and the amount of hatred and anger that poured out of her eyes transformed her into someone you would only ever look at it you were paid to.

"Hello mummy." Sirius said sarcastically to the portrait. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. Sirius jumped back and swore loudly. Walburga's nostrils faired and her permanent scowl became even more pronounced.

"How dare you return?" She hissed in a menacing whisper.

"It's my house." Sirius said eventually with a petulant shrug.

"This house belonged to my forefathers, this house belonged to Phineas Nigellus Black;" Walburga spat becoming more red-faced and hysterical by the second, "it has only belonged to the strongest, most noble men with uninfected minds! None of those traits can be applied to you, you treacherous, dirty, ungrateful swine!" Sirius glanced and me with raised eyebrows and jerked his thumb at his mother, as if to see 'check out the mad old bat'. I gave a nervous grin: even though it was just a portrait she still scared me. Walburga snapped her heard towards me and I jumped slightly which made Sirius chuckle.

"And you brought that with you! That monster!" I flinched – I couldn't help it. "Filthy half-breed animal!" She screamed at me and I grimaced.

"Yeah I did!" Sirius said, "And we're going to spread our modern, liberal ideas all over this place!" Sirius exclaimed loudly obviously beginning to get fed up with his mother's ranting.

"You wont!" Walburga glared her eyes seeming to burn with hatred. "On my own grave I swear you will leave this house a shattered phantom of the pathetic weak man you are now or die here tonight."

"Shut up! What can you do? You're a painting!" Sirius spat shaking his head at his mad mother, who at once started screaming again.

"What's down there? Is that the kitchen?" I asked, ignoring Walburga's angry shouting and pointing to the stone steps to my right.

"Yeah, we should check it out – see what its tea-making capabilities are." Sirius said, but behind him his mother had stood up in her portrait and walked towards her son. She reached towards the frame with one hand and, to my horror, her painted hand pushed right through the canvas of the portrait! Her ghostly pale fingers wrapped around the golden frame. I grabbed my wand and pointed it at her, but I had no idea what spell to cast, I had never seen anything like this. Sirius noticed my alarm and turned back around. He swore again and pulled out his wand as his dead mother stepped out her own portrait.

"What the hell is going on?" Sirius exclaimed jumping back from this matriarchal apparition so that he was next to me.

"I've no idea. She must be a ghost – she's dead." I said as the woman approached us. She didn't not look like a ghost, she was not as transparent as ghosts were, but nor did she look like flesh and blood: there was not enough colour in her skin and when she moved the boundaries of her body blurred and became like smoke as if that was what she were made of.

"Confringo!" Sirius yelled. A jet of red light shot from his wand, flew straight through his mother's body and hit the wall on the other side causing a large hole to appear there.

"Expulso!" I tried, my spell having much the same effect as Sirius'. Walburga smiled a horrible sinister smile at our failed magic and reached one boney hand towards Sirius. Sirius ducked out of her way and dodged around her. I too stepped back as Walburga swiped her hand through the air in anger. Suddenly other portraits were waking up and coming out out of their portraits. Smokey witches and wizards were falling out of paintings and convening in the entrance hall. I ducked out of their way and avoided their grasping hands, but it wasn't me they were after. In fact they ignored me completely and instead surrounded Sirius.

"Depulso! Deletrius!" Sirius yelled, but his spells had no effects.

"Did you father not warn you, Sirius, that this house would not welcome you?" Walburga screamed at her son as she grabbed his wand arm tightly. Sirius shook his arm and tried to pull it from Walburga's grip, but to no avail. Another phantom grabbed his other arm and a third wrapped her arm around his neck.

"Finite Incanatem!" I yelled swiping my wand at them. "Finite! Finite!" I yelled again, now swiping at the phantoms with my arms as I fought to get near Sirius who was struggling to get them away from him. My hands went right through the figures and the smoke they were made of felt icy cold, not unlike when you accidentally touch a ghost. I heard the clatter of Sirius wand as he dropped it on the tiled floor I could not see what was happening as Sirius was now mostly obscured by the smokey figures. In desperation I jumped right through one of the ghosts and saw that Sirius was being viciously pulled into the very wall! Half of Sirius's body was already embedded in the wall like the wall was a vertical pit of quicksand. Both of Sirius' arms had disappeared so that I couldn't grab his hand to pull him out. Instead I grabbed his shoulder and tried to pull against the ghosts of his family that were still pushing and pulling Sirius into the wall.

"Aaah! Don't let them take me!" Sirius yelled at me as he struggled to pull himself out of the wall.

"I wont I wont!" I yelled back dropping my wand and using both hands to pull Sirius by the shoulders. He came slightly towards me and suddenly Sirius managed to free one of his arms and he reached towards me. I grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled as hard as I could. But the opposite side of Sirius' body had been sucked into the wall almost completely. The ghosts too seems to have disappeared into the wall, though I could still see a pair of smokey hands around Sirius' neck, pulling his head towards the wall. Sirius' legs had also been sucked away.

"Hell I don't want to have been killed by a wall!" Sirius, whose face was red and sweating, screamed with a strange frightened amusement. I pulled on his arm as hard as I could, but the force that was pulling him into the wall was much stronger than I was. Sirius neck disappeared, then his jaw began to sink into the wall. "Shit shit!" Sirius yelled but the next second his mouth had sunk and all that was left was his frightened eyes and the arm I was still tugging. I gasped as his head slipped away. He obviously hadn't been crushed or suffocated though because his hand was still gripping my arm painfully tightly. I put my feet against the bottom of the wall and pushed against the skirting board as I continued to pull. But Sirius' arm was disappearing quickly. Soon I only had his hand to hang on to, but it slipped out of my own and I had to watch his fingers sink into the wall. Then he was gone.

"SIRIUS!" I shouted feeling the silk lined walls with my hands. "SIRIUS!" But there was no sign of him. The house was completely silent and the wall bore no traces that a fully grown man had just been pulled into it by an army of dead witches and wizards. I stood in the ancient house of Black and felt panic and terror thunder through me. I had let the house take him. I picked up my wand and held it tightly in my right hand. I had to get him back.

DUN DUN DUN...

NB: Sacare is not a cannon spell, but it almost is, it's latin for 'cut' and is the imperative from of seco which is part of Snape's sectumsempra spell (Latin is cool). The other spells in this chapter are all from the books. Pogrebins are from the books too (fantastic beasts I think), so I take no credit for them.


	37. An Unhappy Childhood

Warning: this chapter is a bit distressing in places, also contains harsher language than usual.

Chapter 37

Standing in the hallway of number 12 Grimmauld place, having just witnessed my best friend being sucked into a wall by the ghosts of his family, was a tense experience. Had he been killed? Was he trapped somewhere in the house? I had no idea. And if he was trapped, I had no clue about how I might rescue him. All I knew was that it was my fault. He asked me not to let the house take him and that's exactly what I had done.

My wand light was fading so I shook it, but the light was still pathetic and the shadows that had been hanging from the ceiling and lurking in the corners started to grow. They crept across the dust laden floor like sakes. They shrouded the hallway so I could no longer see my exit and blanketed the upstairs landing so I couldn't see what horrors lurked there. Part of me wanted to run, but a much bigger part would rather die than leave Sirius trapped in this dark evil place. I held my wand high and made towards the grand staircase that led upstairs. The first step gave groan as I stepped on it, as if it knew who I was and wanted me out. I ignored it and took another step. As I progressed I lit the oil lamps which illuminated the grotesque shrunken heads of house elves that someone had decided to mount upon the wall.

"Sirius?" I called. Still there was nothing. I reached the first floor landing and was met with three doors, two to the south, one to the north. I approached the first door on the south side and reached towards the mahogany handle. Just as my fingers reached it I heard voices behind me. I turned around sharply and held my wand in the direction of the sound. My wand light fell on the single door on the north side so I walked quickly towards it. I listened to the voices coming from within. There were at least two different voices, and neither sounded like Sirius: they sounded like children's voices. Confusion and fear infused my racing heart, but with my wand held in front of me I opened the door.

On the other side was the drawing room. It was vast, with a high ceiling and large windows that overlooked the street. The room was dusty and old, with rips in the curtains and upholstery, that I suspected had been caused by doxies; but I could tell, despite it's uncared for state, that the room was once imposing and impressive. However, the appearance of the room wasn't what I first noticed. The drawing room was occupied by two children and one thin woman who had her back to me. The three people seemed to have the same ghostly unreal quality that the portraits had had when they came out of their frames. When they moved the edges of their bodies blurred and wisps of smoke drifted from their skin. I stared, open mouthed at the apparitions. I recognised one of the children as Sirius himself, though he was younger than I had ever seen him. He looked about eight or nine and very unhappy. He was standing close to one of the windows and kept rubbing his arms and his ribs, as if trying to comfort himself. The other child was a little boy, who would have looked exactly like Sirius had he not been so much smaller with shorter hair and a weaker jaw. I guessed this was Regulus. Regulus was crouched over a shoebox filled with small wriggling creatures. Just like Sirius he looked horribly unhappy and was staring at the woman who was standing in the middle of the room. I could hear a horrible squeaking coming from her. I cautiously walked towards her. The ghost-Sirius and the ghost-Regulus didn't pay any attention to me, so I assumed this was like walking through someone's memory in a Pensieve. As I got closer I saw that the animals in Regulus' shoebox were baby ferrets. Regulus was covering them with his hands as if he was trying to hide them and tears were streaming down his face.

"Stop it!" I heard the young Sirius cry. I walked past him and to the other side where I could see who the woman was and what was making the squeaking. The woman was a young Bellatrix Black. Her wild black hair fell over her pale face and her red lips were stretched into an ugly smile. She had to be at least seventeen because her wand was drawn and she was apparently performing the crutiatus curse on one of the baby ferrets, which twisted and writhed in the air in front of her.

"Stop it!" Sirius shouted at her, as he walked towards her and tried to grab the ferret. I was astounded at Sirius' bravery. He was only a child, he was untrained in magic and unarmed, and there he was standing up to the powerful and dangerous Bellatrix Black. Bellatrix just flicked her wand so that the ferret, still shrieking with agony, flew through the air away from Sirius' outstretched fingers. I glanced at Regulus. He was frantically stroking the other baby ferrets, which looked almost as frightened as Regulus did and were desperately trying to escape the shoebox. Sirius also looked and his younger brother with a kind of sympathy that made him seem so much older than he was. Sirius turned back to Bellatrix.

"Let it go!" He ordered bravely. Bellatrix looked at Sirius and grinned, baring her sharp slightly yellow teeth. She flicked her wand and the ferret stopped squealing, though it remained hovering in the air. Belletrix pointed her wand sharply at Sirius who backed away from his cousin, his grey eyes fixed on the wand.

"Shall I do it to you instead?" Bellatrix teased in a high pitched, malevolent voice. Sirius' face paled and he nervously shook his head. "It's more fun to do it to you than Regulus, he just passes out – little weakling!" Bellatrix looked towards Regulus who cowered in her gaze and cried even more. My breath hurt in my chest as I wondered how many times these two children had been subjugated to such torture from their own cousin.

I looked at the quivering Regulus, whose jet black hair had fallen into his eyes. I never really knew Regulus. I bumped into him every so often at Hogwarts. He was quite popular in his house, probably because he was good looking, though he was never as handsome or as popular as Sirius. Regulus was quiet and well-behaved. But I got the feeling whenever I saw him, that he was the one who came up with all the sinister ideas that the bolder Slytherins actually carried out; he was the mastermind. Hoever, he didn't seem that way as he tearfully tried to protect the baby ferrets. He just seemed like a frightened unhappy child. He was crying quite profusely, but silently, which suggested that he had long since given up on his cries ever being answered.

Sirius wasn't crying. He was trying very hard to hide his feelings from Bellatrix, to seem stronger than he was. I felt so sorry for him.

"You deserve it!" Bellatrix said to Sirius as she poked him hard in the chest. Sirius stepped backwards, his young face tense with fear. "Your mother says you like playing with the muggles up the road! You've got their stench on you! I should shock it out of you!"

"No don't." Sirius said quietly, wincing and taking another step away from the fearsome young woman.

"Morgana, it's not worth it." Bellatrix said with a groan as she turned back to the levitated ferret. "You're not going to change. I can tell." Sirius swallowed and his shoulders relaxed a little, perhaps thinking he had escaped Bellatrix's torture this time. But then Bellatrix pointed her wand back at the ferret and Sirius' body became tense once more. Regulus also gave a little gasp. Bellatrix's purple eyes flicked to me and I took a sharp breath inwards. I thought she couldn't see me? She looked back at the ferret, then with a swish of her wand she sent the animal hurtling towards me. It hit my chest, then went right through me and out the other side. I turned around and saw the ferret fly straight into the fire that was lit behind me. I gasped and stared horrified at the poor creature which made a ghastly high pitched shriek as it was burnt alive.

"No no!" Regulus cried. And Sirius ran towards the fire. Without any thought, he plunged his hands into the flames, screamed as they burnt him, and grabbed the ferret. I stared at Sirius whose eyes had filled with tears, and whose hands were both scarlet and horribly blistered. He was cradling the ferret in his charred hands which was probably dead. Bellatrix scowled and stormed towards Sirius.

"You idiot!" She screamed at him. "You'll pay for that!" She pointed her wand at Sirius' neck.

"Andy! Andy!" Sirius shouted at the top of his voice. "Andy help me!" Suddenly the drawing room door burst open and a girl I recognised burst through.

"Bellatrix get away from him!" She yelled, her long dark hair flicking around her attractive young face. Bellatrix lowered her wand and looked at her sister Andromeda. Andromeda's kind eyes turned to her young cousin's injured hands.

"Bellatrix what have you done?" She asked severely and I noticed that one of her hands was surreptitiously reaching for her wand that was sticking out of the pocket of her skirt. Then she began to fade. Andromeda's face became transparent and then she vanished. As did the young Sirius and Regulus and Bellatrix, so that the drawing room was left empty. Or at least I thought it was. A few seconds later I realised that I wasn't the only person in the room. Standing at the opposite end, staring vacantly at the place where the younger version of himself had been standing was the Sirius I knew. His face was white and his eyes looked hopeless.

"Sirius!" I yelled and he looked towards me as if he had only just noticed me. I rushed towards him. "What's going on?"

"We have to get out of here." Was all Sirius said, his voice so much deeper and more time-worn than the child's voice I had heard moments ago crying for Andromeda to protect him from Bellatrix, but it was just as afraid. I didn't argue with him, instead I handed him his wand and we hurried from the room. But on the other side were more ghosts of Sirius' past. It was Andromeda again, though this time she was a bit older, sixteen maybe. She was backed against the wall of the hallway, with Sirius' father leaning over her. She turned her face so that she didn't have to look at him, and instead looked in my direction, though of course she couldn't see me. Her eyes were the same shape as her daughter's, and I couldn't help but think about Nymphadora when I saw the ghost-version of her mother. Orion Black looked as terrifying as ever, with his black eyes and neatly clipped black beard.

"Don't be frightened." Orion said in his devilish voice as he ran the back of two of his fingers down Andromeda's face. Andromeda squirmed and her eyes shut tightly.

"Leave me alone." She said in a voice I'm sure she had hoped would sound stronger. Orion gave a soft laugh and forcefully turned her face towards him.

"Not until you give me what I want." He whispered and I trembled with anger and disgust at this incestuous sexual harassment.

"I never will." Andromeda insisted bravely. Then Orion kissed her. Andromeda squirmed and tried to push Orion off her. She hit his shoulders then reached for her wand. But he pulled away and grabbed her wrist, then took her wand from her and held it to her neck.

"Open your mouth this time." He said and I wished he was not just a phantom so I could curse the life out of him.

"Andy?" A small voice behind me said. Orion, Andromeda and I turned to look at an eleven year old Sirius. Orion stepped away from Andromeda slightly.

"Go to your room Sirius." Orion said severely.

"I..." Sirius began looking at Andromeda. "I need Andromeda's help, with some homework." Andromeda bit her lip at looked nervously at Orion.

"No you don't." Orion said. "Go to your room."

"I do! I've got a transfiguration essay to write." Sirius lied.

"I'm warning you Sirius." Orion said pointing Andromeda's wand at his son. Sirius glared back and pulled out his own wand.

"Put that away you ridiculous child." Orion told him. "You know you cannot use magic outside of school."

"I don't care." Sirius said in a quiet but firm voice.

"Expelliarmus." Orion said calmly and Sirius wand whipped out of his hand. I felt Sirius' humiliation as if it were my own.

"Go on. Leave. Before I make you." Orion warned. Sirius looked at Andromeda and bit his lip. He quickly stepped towards Andromeda, grabbed her hand and pulled her away from Orion. Orion gave a derisive laugh.

"Pretrificus totallus." Orion said pointing his wand at Sirius, except the spell didn't have the effect Orion intended. Instead the wand itself suddenly caught fire and Orion promptly dropped it. The wand ceased to burn as soon as it hit the ground, and Andromeda at once picked it up. She pointed it at Orion.

"You should have known better than to try and use _my_ wand to curse your own son!" Andromeda snapped venomously. Orion pulled out his own wand and sent a hex towards Andromeda.

"Protego!" She cried and deflected the hex. But the next hex Orion sent hit Andromeda squarely in the chest and she fell backwards into the wall. Orion turned to his son and hit him with a potent stinging hex. Sirius cried out in pain and fell to the ground. He grabbed his wand and yelled 'protego' to try and protect himself from his father's next curse, but the young Sirius didn't know enough about magic, and his spell was ineffective. I held my wand in Sirius' direction, wanting to cast the spell for him. But there was nothing I could do. This was a memory. Something I couldn't change.

The real Sirius watched the scene with despondency, and looked as if the memory was sucking the life out of him. I pulled him away from the phantoms and back towards the stairs. But now there were more on the staircase. This time a young Sirius was being horribly cursed by his mother.

"You traitorous filthy child!" She screamed as she charmed a vase to fly towards Sirius and smash over his head. "It's bad enough you were sorted into Gryffindor! But associating with a half blood! That snotty pathetic mudblood!" My chest ached because she talking about me. This was my fault!

"Piss off you cow!" Sirius screamed back at the top of his voice, which only earned him another nasty curse.

"Oh God..." The real Sirius murmured as he witnessed the memory being enacted in front of him. I turned to my friend whose whole body looked like it was weakening, like it was dying.

"Expecto Patronum!" I yelled as I thought about the first time the Marauders broke into Honeydukes. It was the only other spell I could think of that might work. The huge silver Osprey that was my patronus swooped at the two smokey figures. It broke them apart, but as the bird flew back to my shoulder they reformed again and the memory started to replay.

"Upstairs!" Sirius hissed as my patronus faded and disappeared. I followed Sirius up to the second landing where were were confronted by yet another unhappy memory. This time of Sirius and Regulus screaming at each other.

"Why can't you see they're brain washing you?"

"You're just jealous! Jealous that they like me better than you!"

Sirius ran between the ghosts of his past and I followed. We got to another staircase, but no light came from the floor above, so Sirius lit his wand. He began to run up the stairs, but just as I was about to follow something grabbed my ankle. I yelled and looked down, but before I could even see what it was I was pulled off my feet and dragged towards a door that was slightly ajar. With one hand I dug my nails into the carpet and tried in vain to resist the force that was pulling me and with the other I shone my wand light towards the thing wrapped tightly around my ancle. It was a vine of Devil's Snare. I tried to cast a flame spell, but before I could the Devil's Snare whipped more vines around my wand arm paralysing it, then another whipped around my neck. I gasped, but was unable to call to Sirius for help. Luckily though, he had returned from the stairs and set the heart of the plant, that resided somewhere in the room it was trying to drag me into, alight. The plant immediately let me go. Sirius pulled me to my feet as I took a deep breath.

"You alright?" He asked quickly.

"Fine." I replied with equal haste. Sirius glanced fearfully back at ghosts that were still enacting Sirius' memories. I did too, and with distinct horror, I saw that the ghost of Regulus glance in my direction, his eyes seeming to glow slightly red. Could they see us now? What was going on? Sirius tugged me towards the stairs, and we ran up them.

On the top floor Sirius kicked open a door and ran inside. I followed. Sirius slammed the door shut and locked it with magic, though I wasn't sure exactly why: if the ghosts were going to follow us a locked door wouldn't hold them back. The room we were in was thankfully ghost free. We were in Sirius' room judging from the Gryffindor banners and posters of scantily clad woman posing with motorcycles. Sirius put his hands over his face and leant against his bedroom door. Then he groaned loudly as he slid down to the floor.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asked me eventually.

"I don't know." I replied. "What happened when they pulled you into the wall?"

"For a few minutes I felt like I was being crushed." Sirius said his eyebrows furrowed. "Then I felt like...Merlin, I felt like they were all in my head. My mother, my father...Bellatrix. I could see them all in there, prying through my mind like it was public property.

"Then I was suddenly in the drawing room, watching Bellatrix torture the ferrets..." Sirius scowled and looked at his hands that bore no traces of the severe burns he had received that day.

"That really happened then?" I asked.

"Yes. They were Regulus' ferrets, Walburga had got them for him as a birthday present." Sirius told me, then he put one hand over his eyes. "I was so afraid of Bellatrix." Sirius admitted after a few minutes silence and I bit my lip not really knowing what to say. These were memories that Sirius had never told me about, so it didn't feel right that I had seen them.

"I never knew what she was going to do." Sirius said, more to himself than to me. "Everyone was afraid of her. Even her own parents. Andromeda was the only one who seemed to have some control over her."

I took a deep breath.

"Did..." I started, but then I stopped as I wasn't sure I had a right to ask what I wanted to ask. "Did your father ever...with Andromeda?"

Sirius looked at me with sad eyes and shrugged.

"I don't know." He admitted, looking desperate with horror at his own family. "She never spoke about it. Whenever I asked her she told me not to worry. But...he could have done anything, and she wouldn't have been able to stop him, or even tell anybody! 'Cos who would help her? Her family would just turn a blind eye, they were those sorts of people. And I couldn't do anything. You saw how easily he overpowered me then." Sirius looked on the verge of tears and my heart ached for him.

"You were only a child." I said, keen to rid Sirius of the guilt he was obviously feeling. Sirius covered his face again and breathed deeply into his palms.

"I hate this place!" He suddenly yelled. "I hate them!" He slammed a fist against the floor then screamed.

"We have to leave." He said once he had calmed down a little. I didn't say anything so Sirius looked questioningly at me.

"What? I'm not staying here! Those things are bloody everywhere! I've tried so hard to forget all that, and there it is being acted out right in front of me. I'm not staying here." Sirius said angrily. I bit my lip. Walburga had said that the house would not welcome Sirius, that he would 'leave this house a shattered phantom or die here tonight'.

"I think this is all part of a curse, designed to make you leave." I concluded out loud.

"Or drive me mad." Sirius added and I couldn't help but agree with him.

"I've never seen anything like it," I said, which was true: I had heard of curses to ward people away from buildings, to prevent people from moving in, but those usually just involved splattering people with manure when they opened the front door, or turning the floor to butter when they stepped inside. This was so much more sinister. This was creative dark magic I was sure.

"But..." I added cautiously.

"But what?" Sirius asked me, his eyes steely and warning.

"But, if it's a curse, then they'll be a way of reversing it." I said. As I predicted Sirius glared at me.

"I don't care. I'm not going to sit here and work out a counter curse with you, like it's some Defence assignment!" Sirius blurted at me. "That's – that's my life! I can't stand the sight of it. I don't care if it can be reversed I want out!"

I paused again. I felt every sympathy for him. I knew how angry and distressed those memories made him, and I suspected it was made even worse by the fact that I now knew about these secrets of his. So I understood Sirius' compulsion to run away. But, Sirius was a Gryffindor...I knew he could stand up and fight this, I just had to convince _him_ of that.

"But then you'd be letting it win." I said quietly.

"What?" Sirius jabbed angrily at me.

"The house is trying to frighten you away." I explained. "I think we shouldn't give it that satisfaction. Surely you agree? You don't want this house to beat you."

Sirius didn't say anything he just stared at me like I was mad, which I probably was.

"Come on Pads." I added. "We can take it."

I knew I had him then. I didn't often call Sirius 'Pads', that was something James did; I knew calling him Pads this time would stir his inner marauder. Sirius' silver eyes glinted very briefly. Then, after a long tense silence he said,

"What did you have in mind?"

Note: let me know if that chapter was a bit unclear in places...

(Also, I know Andromeda is called 'Dromeda' for short in the books, but I like Andy (mostly because it is my name :)) so maybe Andy is what Sirius called her.)


	38. Battling The Ghosts

Okay, I'm not sure about this chapter, dunno, something about it, it doesn't feel right. Also, appologies if my latin is not correct. Oppugno and expello are cannon spells I think, the rest I've made up, but they are all latin and I think the translations are all included in the chapter – apart form Repugno which means 'fight back' I think.

Chapter 38

"Well, let's try and break down the curse first..." I said scratching the two-day old stubble on my chin. Sirius' lips twitched as he watched me think, perhaps still a little irritated that I was treating this vulgar display of his private unpleasant memories as some sort of challenge. I gave him an apologetic smile before continuing.

"They are your memories aren't they?" I asked and Sirius nodded. "Memories that frighten you?" Sirius winced slightly at my suggestion that he was afraid.

"More disgust, regret..." He mumbled, and I nodded.

"In any case, it's surely a curse designed to provoke negative emotions using memories – like a dementor." I said. "So we should fight the curse in a similar way."

"With a Patronus?" Sirius questioned. "But you tried that, it didn't really work."

"It did seem to hold them back a little." I argued, starting to pace the room before I could prevent myself. "But, you're right it wasn't tremendously effective...Now that might just be because the memories are not directed at me – they are directed at you. _Your_ patronus might work better. But, patronuses don't _destroy_ dementors any more than they erase the past events they remind you of. I don't think a patronus would destroy the ghosts, it would just hold them back."

"So what then? What do we need?"

"How would you destroy something that is trying to frighten you..."

"Show it that you're not afraid, then its raison d'etre would be...void. It would cancel itself out – if the only reason it exists is to frighten and it doesn't frighten it wont exist anymore."

"Yes!" I agreed, and Sirius raised an eyebrow at my enthusiasm. I cleared my throat and continued. "How could we show that we – you are not afraid?"

To this question Sirius said nothing. Suddenly, there was a loud banging and Sirius jumped up from the door and pointed his wand at it. I did the same as I saw the door rattling on hits hinges as if something were trying to break in.

"What is that?" I questioned my heart racing.

"There's nothing out there but the ghosts?"

"Ghosts can't do that to doors." I argued. "And anyway, they could just come through the wall if they are ghosts."

"I don't think they can." Sirius told me. "I brought us up here because it was the one room in the house I felt safe – where they couldn't do anything to me. The door is enchanted so that once I lock it, my family can't enter – not even if they blew apart the door. I would have thought that applies to the ghosts as well."

"That still doesn't explain how they are able to do that to the door – they are not physical things they can't affect physical things..." I commented as if I could somehow make the door stop rattling with logic.

"They pulled me into a wall." Sirius argued. "Lets just work out a way of countering this curse – quickly." Sirius added over the top of the banging.

"Okay okay..." I said trying to think. "The curse's ammunition is memories so we should fight back with memories. Happy ones. Ones that make you feel...confident."

"We'd have to bring the memories to life I think, like the curse does." Sirius added and I nodded.

"Okay we need a bowl or something..." I said glancing around the room. Nothing suitable jumped out at me. Sirius crouched down and looked under his bed. A moment later he was pulling out a large wooden box that appeared to be full of records. He tipped the records out onto the bed then turned to me.

"Will this do?" He asked and I nodded. "What's it for?"

"We'll fill it with memories, like a penseive." I said.

"But you need a potion, and a stone bowl, to make a penseive." Sirius argued as the banging seemed to get louder.

"I know," I shouted over the top of it, "but that's just what enables you to _view_ the memories, we don't need to view them, we just need to collect them. They should be your memories, I don't think mine would work."

"What about memories we share?" Sirius suggested.

"Alright." I agreed. "They need to be happy." I added shouting over the top of the banging. Then I tried to think of something I had done with Sirius that would make him feel happy. My mind was blank. Reminiscing about the 'good times' (and regretting their demise) is normally something my mind does so well, it was so typical that now was the time it suddenly started to live in the present.

"I can't concentrate over that noise!" Sirius shouted, obviously having the same problem. "Silencio!" He yelled angrily pointing his wand at the door. The noise abruptly stopped and I sighed with relief, though I could still see the door rattling on its hinges.

"Let's start simple: first time we met." I said. "We were going to Hogwarts, you were escaping your parents, that's got to be a good memory?"

Sirius nodded and I placed my wand to my temple and murmured the appropriate charm so that I could extract the memory. I pulled from my mind the silver strand containing my recollection of Sirius joining me on the Hogwarts express and offering me a chocolate frog. I deposited the strand, that seemed neither liquid nor gas, but something in between, into the box. Sirius did the same, his memory a slightly darker silver than mine. Then, I racked my brain for another happy memory.

"Rescuing the hostages from the potions lab in Yorkshire?" Sirius suggested, and I grinned.

"Oh that's definitely qualifies." I said and I pulled the memory from my mind. The event Sirius was referring to was probably our most successful Order mission to date. A group of Death Eaters were attempting to commandeer one of the largest potions laboratories in the UK, and had taken all of the potions brewers hostage. The rescue strategy was complex and involved a direct attack lead by Sirius and I, while a second group infiltrated the laboratory and led the hostages to safety. From start to finish we accomplished the mission in under six hours, no hostages were killed, or even severely injured, one Death Eater was killed, but the rest were all captured. During a time when most Order missions resulted in our friends dying, this success was accompanied by a strange sort of weary rejoicing.

"What about the day we got our NEWT results? That was pretty good." I then suggested casting a nervous glance at the bedroom door, whose frame was beginning to splinter.

"I never cared about that." Sirius said with an impatient wave of his hand. And I rolled my eyes for temporally being stupid enough to think that it would: of course he wouldn't care, Sirius aced every exam without even trying, an ability I was horribly jealous of.

"Christmas 1978." Sirius declared, and I tried to cast my mind back to that year. I had a dull picture of Sirius dancing in a Siouxsie and the Banshees T-shirt, and James and Lily playing Exploding Snap.

"I know the war was in full swing, but James and Lily had just got married, none of our friends had died yet..." Sirius continued, and as memories returned to me I began to see what he was getting at.

"I had a job." I added remembering how I worked as a Latin tutor while I began a degree in Theory of Magic.

"I'd just got the Motorcycle to fly," added Sirius smiling slightly.

"The girl from the Apothecary fancied me," I said as I remembered kissing her under mistletoe while I was buying Sirius Hangover potion as a Christmas present.

"Dream on Moony, she was way out of your league. She felt sorry for you was what it was." Sirius argued, but he was grinning.

"Ok, all those will do." I said and we extracted the memories and put them in the box.

Memories were coming to the pair of us more quickly now and we added more to our stockpile: James and Lily's wedding; Harry's second first birthday (Sirius was absent on his actual first birthday so James and Lily had to throw him a second party for Sirius' benefit), and lastly:

"The time we all came to visit you in Ireland the, and managed to break you out of the cellar on the full moon. Remember?" Sirius said, and I saw his grey eyes grow suddenly brighter. "We explored the forrest and came to the river – and the moon looked so Goddamn big. I remember the way it was reflected in the water...I felt like we owned the world that night."

I remember the event Sirius was talking about, though I would never have imagined he would had attached so much emotional significance to it. But the expression on his face told me that this was exactly the sort of memory we needed. I extracted my recollection of the event just as Sirius did the same.

"Alright, let's see how we get on with those, um..." I said as I tried to formulate a spell that would do what I wanted.

"What do you want to do with them?" Sirius said pointing to the pool of silver memories.

"I want to..." I said gesticulating wildly to try and explain myself. "I want to use them like bullets."

"What are bullets?" Sirius asked me.

"They are the things that fire out of muggle guns." I explained quickly.

"Oh," said Sirius, "and we'll fire them at the ghosts?"

"Yes, and then I want them to play out – the memories I mean. Then I would imagine the actualisation of the memories would be enough to cancel out the ghosts."

"Right," Sirius said breathing through his mouth and glancing at his bedroom door. "So, we need some sort of animating charm, and...and a spell that directs the good memories towards the bad: a spell that makes them a weapon."

"Yes, animating them will be fairly easy I think, appearo would probably do," I said,

"What about appearo in meus signum." (appear on my signal.)

"We want the memories to play out when they hit the target though...appearo in contactus, would be better." (Appear on contact.)

"We also need a spell that will make them attack the ghosts," Sirius continued, "what about Oppugno?"

"Oppugno in meus signum?" (attack on my signal.)

"What shall our signal be?"

"Contendo? It means to shoot."

"Yeah alright. We should probably include the intention as well..."

"Expello hostis?" (to drive out the enemy)

"That'll work."

"Alright... together?"

"Yes."

We held our wands over the swirling silver memories and said together:

"Salvio hexia, oppugno in meus signum, appearo in contactus, expello hostis..."

As we spoke our intentions the memories quivered and glowed slightly, which was an encouraging sign. We repeated the incantation a few times to make sure that every memory had been enchanted. Then we drew the memories into our wands using another invented spell. Sirius took his memories and I took mine. Once they were inside my wand I pointed my wand towards the rattling door.

"Contendo!" I said firmly, and a silvery bullet shot from my wand. It pierced through the air and hit the door. As soon as it did, to my delight, there was an explosion of silver and two figures materialised. The figures were blurred and smokey, just like the apparitions of Sirius' family had been, but these two figures were of James and Lily. I felt a surge of warmth in my chest when I saw them. They were looking at each other with matching stupid grins. James looked scruffy, as he always did, but handsome, and Lily looked beautiful, as she always did, in her wedding dress. The dress looked slightly strange on her as it wasn't hers, it was her mother's; a lot of people were getting married very quickly in those days – a morbid precaution in case they never got a chance to – so Lily didn't really have the time (or the money) to source her own wedding dress; nevertheless she still looked very pretty.

"I can't believe I get to marry you." James said looking slightly insane with happiness.

"I know!" Lily said with a role of her eyes, characteristic or her sardonic wit, but then she smiled. Suddenly a third figure appeared, this time a young, disgustingly handsome Sirius.

"Come on! He said 'man and wife' already, you are waisting valuable drinking time!" Sirius said, a remark which cause both Lily and James to laugh and hurriedly kiss each other. I grinned as the memory faded away. I glanced towards Sirius and was pleased to see a smirk on his face, but it soon disappeared as the door began to rattle again.

"You've just waisted one." He said to me.

"I had to check that it worked." I argued. "Anyway, are you ready?" Sirius raised his wand.

"Ready."

"Okay, after three, unlock the door." I told him. "One, two, three."

Sirius opened the door. On the other side, I saw the ghosts of Sirius' family. Their faces were even more blurry than they were before so that I could hardly make out their features. All I could really see were their glowing red eyes. I held my breath, fearing that they would attack. But instead they swooped backwards, disappearing into the shadowy hallway. Sirius and I followed them into the hallway and down to the second floor landing. The ghosts had returned to their original postions and the memories had started to replay. I wondered if this was perhaps all they could do, whether their vehement pounding of Sirius' bedroom door was just a bluff, something designed to force him to leave the room so they could once again remind him of how horrid his childhood had been. I looked towards my friend, whose face was steely and unafraid. Whatever those ghosts were trying to do, they had no chance. Sirius pointed his wand at the ghost version of his Mother who was in the process of cursing a teenage version of himself until he was leaning against the wall gasping and shivering in pain.

"Contendo!" He yelled. The silver memory fired from his wand, soared towards the ghost of his mother and, just as we had hoped, when it hit her it exploded. The explosion broke apart the phantom's body and forming in her place were ghost versions of myself and Sirius when we were twelve.

"Oh, I guess that means you can't be friends with me then. My mum's a muggle." I saw the younger version of myself say. It was strange to see myself from this perspective: I was so much smaller than I remember.

"Aha! But that's the thing!" The young Sirius cried with a huge happy grin. "I'm going to Hogwarts and my parents will be far away in London: I can be friends with whoever the hell I want!" The memory faded away unveiling the memory of Sirius and Regulus arguing that was playing out at the end of the corridor. I aimed my wand at the pair and shot a memory at them. Smokey apparitions of myself and Sirius at about twenty materialised in the hall way, breaking apart the ghosts of Regulus and Sirius as they appeared. I stared at the actualised memory of Sirius. Sirius and I were both out of breath, but ecstatic looking. We were holding our wands in front of us, obviously having just won a dual or two...or six if I remember correctly.

"That was an impressive jelly-legs jinx Remus, he looked like he was falling over even when he was lying down!"

"Thank you Sirius." I said, "And credit to you too, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a gastroenteritus curse."

Sirius let out a cheeky bark like laugh and I joined in before saying

"Right, lets call the others..." After which the memory began to fade.

Sirius was already heading down the stairs and I followed. He held his wand at the next memory, which was the one of Orion abusing Andromeda. Sirius pointed his wand at Orion and yelled "Contendo!" but the ghost version of Orion dodged the silver bullet. My body tensed as I released this wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. Orion stepped towards Sirius – the real Sirius – while the other ghosts metled away. With one hand Orion grabbed Sirius' wand arm before he could cast another spell while he wrapped his other hand around Sirius neck. Then Orion tried to push Sirius into the wall just as the portraits had done. Meanwhile the memory that Sirius had fired had hit the wall and exploded. A memory from Christmas 1978 started to play, I could see ghost-versions of Sirius, James and myself laughing about something, though I could not hear what over the sound of the real Sirius shouting at his father.

"James!" I suddenly shouted, thinking that if the memories the house was creating could take on a life of their own, maybe the good memories could do the same. James' ghost turned to look at me and I grinned with triumph.

"Repugno!" I shouted pointing my wand at James and then flicking it towards Sirius who was struggling against the supernatural force of his father. James ran to help Sirius. He grabbed the ghost of Orion by the shoulders, his eyes determined behind his glasses, and yanked him away from his old friend. Orion looked surprised for a moment but as James pulled him away from the real Sirius, he began to disappear, as the happiness Sirius felt at seeing his old friend outweighed any latent fear he might have for his father. Within in few moments the ghost Orion had vanished. I looked at James' ghost my heart beating fast. I knew he wasn't real, I could see that he was only made of smoke, but the way he smiled at Sirius and I made me wonder whether I was looking at the real James. Sirius also stared at James somewhat in awe.

"How does that work?" Sirius said and James laughed at him, then winked before he disappeared.

"They're just memories right?" Sirius asked me and I shrugged. Suddenly I heard movement from the level below.

"Do you think the ghosts have realised what we're up to?" Sirius asked, and in answer to his question Bellatrix Black appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Contendo!" I shouted, but she dodged the memory. It hit the wall behind her and a memory started to play, but I didn't watch it for long enough to work out what it was, because at that same moment, faster than I could really see, the ghost Bellatrix had darted behind Sirius and put her arm around his' neck. Sirius let out a weird strangled cough and Bellatrix pulled him a few steps backwards towards the wall. She whispered something into Sirius' ear and his face twisted into an ugly glare. Bellatrix laughed then brushed her parted lips across Sirius' cheek. Sirius lost his temper, jabbed his wand over his shoulder and forced one of our memories to explode inside her. The ghost shattered and disappeared and replacing her was another memory from Christmas 1978.

"What is it?" I saw James' ghost say to a nineteen year old Sirius.

"It's a motorcycle." Sirius told James impatiently.

"What's one of those?"

"It's like a bicycle with an engine."

"Why would anyone want to put an engine on a two-wheeled vehicle, that's so dangerous."

I couldn't help but chuckle as the memory faded away, Sirius was also smiling.

"Come on let's get the rest of them." He said and we hurried downstairs.

Downstairs we met an angry uncle who we had to chase around the kitchen table before the memory of Padfoot trying (and failing) to out howl me by the river finally got him and the uncle vanished. We also met Narcissa Black who used to steal things from the Black house and blame it on Sirius so that Sirius' mother would temporarily remove his fingers as punishment. I took her out with another memory of rescuing the hostages from the potions laboratory.

In the dining room we came across a memory of the entire Black family. They were sitting around the dinning table eating dinner – all except Sirius who had been magically bound to his chair and unable to touch the food in front of him. A small Regulus, who was sitting opposite Sirius, shovelled food into his mouth and grinned in a teasing sort of way at his brother. I never found out why Sirius' parents were deliberately starving him because the memory stopped playing after Sirius shot another good memory (Sirius and James laughing at my terrible Christmas cracker joke) at the dining table where it exploded into life, disintegrating the ghosts of Sirius' past.

Soon there was only one ghost left, the one that started it all: the version of Walburga Black that had climbed out of her portrait. We cornered her in the entrance hall, and I noticed that the portraits of Sirius' family that hung there, that had emptied when the portraits came to life and pulled Sirius into the wall, were occupied again. Evidently when Sirius and I destroyed the memories the ghosts had been forced to return to their portraits. They all looked furious about this and were shouting and jeering at Sirius and I. I shot the last memory I had left at Walburga (one of a one year old Harry Potter head-butting a sniggering Sirius' knees) but for some unknown reason the memory didn't work on her. Sirius shot his last memory, but it was similarly ineffective. Walburga just brushed the memories away with her hands like they were cobwebs.

"Why isn't it working?" Sirius yelled at me as Walburga and the rest of the portraits all laughed at us.

"I don't know, perhaps the memories weren't happy enough." I suggested. Then, just like before Walburga started to summon the ghosts back from their portraits. I saw them all walk towards the front of their frames and reach outwards. But Sirius wasn't about to be captured again.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He shouted. Sirius' lioness patronus burst into life and roared at Walburga who immediately backed away. The lioness reared up on her hind legs and swiped her claws at Mrs Black, forcing the ugly witch to take another step backwards towards her portrait.

Thinking of all the memories Sirius and I had recalled earlier, I summoned my own patronus. The osprey swooped around Walburga's head while the lion clawed at her legs.

"Force her back into the portrait!" Sirius yelled at his patronus and I silently willed mine to do the same. The osprey and the lion pushed Walburga backwards, and in fear she flung one arm out behind her. It his the canvas of her own portrait and sunk into it like it was quicksand. Then, just as I had been unable to pull Sirius out of the wall hours ago, Walburga was unable to stop her own body being pulled back into her portrait. She screamed out in protest, but she could not scream louder than Sirius' lion could roar or my osprey could shriek. Once Walburga was once again inside her portrait she reached her hands towards the frame, in an attempt to pull herself back out, but then Sirius yelled,

"Imprison her!" And the lion jumped up and pressed its front paws, with its huge claws drawn, firmly on the front of the portrait. It gave one last invincible roar, and for a second I could see silver streaks flash across the painting. The lion jumped down from the portrait and padded over to Sirius, who reached out a hand and stroked its head. My patronus flew towards me and I held out an arm for it to perch on. I looked at its handsome austere face and it bowed its head to me before gradually fading away. Once it had gone I looked towards Walburga who was still screaming bloody murder from within her portrait, but she now seemed unable to come out of it.

"How dare you! You filthy insolent traitor!" She screamed but Sirius ignored her. Instead he looked at me. He looked very tired, and I couldn't quite read the expression in his strange silver eyes. He had a relieved sort of grin on his face, so obviously he was pleased that we had destroyed all the ghosts and forced his family to return to their portraits, but the grin didn't quite reach his eyes. But if I were him I would feel the same I think: we had beaten the curse, yes, but all those memories, all those horrible things that Sirius had had to endure during his childhood, they had all still happened; nothing could change that.

"How did you do that?" I asked him, pointing at the portrait.

"Imprison her?"

"Yes."

"I don't know. I just, couldn't stand her anymore. And you said my patronus might be able to do something, so...I thought I'd try it." Sirius said with a shrug, then he grimaced and turned back to his angry mother. "Shut up! You can scream all you want you are not coming out and we are not leaving!" Walburga ignored her son and continued to rant. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Silencio!" Sirius shouted pointing his wand at the portrait, but it did nothing. "How do you think we shut her up?"

"We could try and take the picture down." I suggested.

"Tomorrow." Sirius said with a yawn, and he turned to walk up the stairs. "Or you could transform here and rip her to shreds. I don't think a painting would have much chance against a werewolf." He added as I began to follow him and I cringed

"Padfoot you can't...set me on people – or things," I chastised, and Sirius laughed, "but it would probably work!" I added over my shoulder to Walburga who promptly stopped shouting.

"Ah that's how you do it: threaten to maul her."

NB: Just realised I've made Sirius' eyes silver and Remus' eyes gold. That wasn't even on purpose.


	39. Happy Birthday Padfoot

Announcement: I'm afraid updates will probably become less frequent over the next couple of months as I had my finals exams coming up and hence a lot of work to do. I'm sorry about this, but I promise I will be back! I have lots of good stuff planned.

Chapter 39

As we had anticipated, after fighting off an army of ghosts Sirius and I were both too tired to apparate back to Ireland, so we headed to Sirius' old room, reasoning that it was probably the safest room in the house. Once there, Sirius pulled the old bedsheets off of his bed only to find a family of rats nesting there.

"Merlins Balls!" He cried in surprise as the huge mother rat made a weird sort of screeching then tried to scamper off the bed.

"Petrificus totalus!" I said, shooting the spell at her. The rat froze just as it was jumping off the bed and fell to the ground with a muffled thump.

"Ee." Sirius said as he looked down at the writhing baby rats, which were emitting meagre little squeaks. They were evidently very young, as they had not yet opened their eyes and their grey fur had only just started to grow. They were phenomenally ugly in my opinion (and apparently Sirius'). I walked around Sirius' bed to have a look at the paralysed adult rat. It really was quite enormous, at least a foot long (not including the tail) Shrugging my sleeve over my hand I bent down and picked it up by its tail, using the sleeve of my jumper as a sort of glove. I held it up to Sirius who pulled a face.

"What shall we do with them?" I asked.

"Barbecue them?" Sirius suggested, and I recoiled.

"Urgh, no!" I said.

"They are actually okay barbecued. Taste like rabbit." Sirius said with a shrug. "The little ones wont have much meat, but they are so young you could probably eat the bones as well."

"Jesus, how you have been living." I commented feeling harrowed and slightly repulsed at the thought that Barbecued Rats was a meal Sirius had become a connoisseur in.

"Alright alright, Mr Picky," Sirius said as he sourced the wooden box we had used earlier to store memories, "put them in the box I'll give them to Buckbeak." I deposited the adult rat into the box and Sirius roughly grabbed the babies and put them in there as well.

"Feel's a bit mean." I remarked as Sirius put the box outside his bedroom door to deal with in the morning.

"They are rats Remus, common desease-carrying pests." Sirius argued. And I shrugged. "For a werewolf you're a bit of a softie." Sirius added before casting a scourgify spell over the mattress. While he cleaned the rat dirt off the mattress I pulled two sleeping bags out of my magically expanded pocket.

Sirius started taking his boots off, while I decided to have a little nose around his room. I'd never visited Sirius during our schooldays (his parents unsurprisingly wouldn't have allowed it), so this room was oddly fascinating to me. It was quite a nice room really, apart from the dust and the cobwebs, the family of rats and the fact that it was part of the Black house. The walls were lined with a silvery silk wallpaper, though as I noticed earlier, a large potion of the walls were covered with posters of women and motorcycles. There was also a large Gryffindor banner complete with roaring lion hanging above the fireplace. The fireplace, like the rest of the furniture in the room, had a pleasing masculine grandeur despite its slightly run-down state. The cheeks of the fireplace were tiled with ornately painted hunting scenes and the surround and mantal were made of a dark polished wood, perhaps mahogany. The bed was made of the same wood, and among the bedsheets that Sirius had thrown off the bed was a throw of black velvet embroidered with silver.

I meandered towards Sirius' desk that sat underneath the window which looked onto the garden. I couldn't really see the garden given the late hour and the fog, but from the few trees I could make out, I could tell how overgrown it was. Upon Sirius' desk were some dried up ink bottles and a few old quills flung randomly into the open draws but other than that it looked empty, probably having been cleared out when Sirius left home. Above the desk, stuck to the wall, was a picture of the four Marauders: James, Peter Sirius and I. We were all grinning inanely and looked like we were up to no good. I smiled at the picture then cast my eyes to the one next to it. It was an overhead photograph of an attractive woman, with thick dark hair, lying in what looked like a jungle, in a soaking wet torn dress which left little to the imagination. I tilted my head to examine the picture more thoroughly at which point Sirius laughed at me.

"Ah Marilyn." He said fondly, walking towards me and gazing at the picture over my shoulder. "She got me through some lonely nights." He added and I rolled my eyes.

"You can borrow her if you like." He added with a teasing grin. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Piss off you gobshite." I retorted as I turned around. Sirius had already taken off his jumper and trousers and looked keen to get into the sleeping bag. I could understand why, as even with my coat on, I felt a little cold. I had another look at the fireplace: it looked fine to me, and there was even some coal left in the scuttle on the hearth, but I still had a quick check for curses before I lit a fire. Soon a modest red glow and a pleasing amount of heat was being radiated into the room. I warmed my hands by the fire for a few moments before walking back towards the bed. I took off my coat, laid it over the end of the bed, just like Sirius had done with his jeans then sat on the bed so that I could take my boots off.

"Hurry up!" Sirius complained from inside his sleeping bag.

"What's the rush?" I asked calmly as I dumped my boots on the floor.

"I'm tired." Sirius replied impatiently.

I undid my belt buckle, enjoying the clinking sound it made, then took off my trousers, and as quickly as I could shoved my legs into the sleeping back, before I could feel the cold. Unfortunately no human (or werewolf) could have moved fast enough.

"Brrrr." I said pushing myself into the sleeping bag as far as I could go. Sirius lay on his back next to me and looked at the cobwebby ceiling. We lay in silence for a while and my eyes started to feel heavy, then, despite his earlier profession that he was tired, Sirius interrupted the silence.

"You know, we haven't shared a bed since that summer we stayed at James' and we shared the mattress on the floor." Sirius remarked casually and I yawned. "You kept kicking me." Sirius added amusement in his voice. I was pleased he seemed to be feeling a little happier, but I also wanted to go to sleep so my voice was a little impatient when I responded.

"You kept getting too close." I said. "I don't like people touching me when I sleep."

"I had to get close, you kept nicking all the covers!" Sirius retorted, and I could hear the grin on his face. "And you know how bloody cold James' house used to be – even in the summer. I suppose that's because it was such an old house..."

"Well, we have sleeping bags this time, so you have no excuse." I said. "If you touch me you will get kicked." And I smiled with my eyes closed.

"Relax Moony." Sirius advised. "What do you do when you sleep with a woman? They like to be cuddled."

"I just, wait till they've fallen asleep and then wriggle away." I said sleepily and Sirius laughed at me again.

"Romantic, Remus." He said sarcastically.

"I'm plenty romantic," I argued, "now go to sleep Sirius."

I awoke abruptly the next morning, so I knew that something had woken me, even though I didn't know straight away what it was. I snatched my wand from under the mouldy pillow my head had been resting on, and sprang upright.

"Mmrfff!" I exclaimed as I nearly cursed a strange creature standing at the end of the bed. For a few minutes I couldn't tell what it was, all I knew was that it was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. It's skin was grey, wrinkled and quite warty; it had all of three wispy white hairs on its walnut like skull and a great deal more spouting from its nose; it was naked apart from an unfathomably dirty tea towel tied around its waist like a loincloth. It was the tea towel that told me it wasn't the animated corpse of a mutant toad or a troll's knee cap skin draped over a large doll, it was in fact a house elf.

"Disgusting smelly monster, looking at Kreacher with his ugly yellow eyes. Poor mistress would be sick if she saw him." The house elf muttered to himself, apparently under the impression that I couldn't hear him.

"Erm, Kreacher is it?" I asked, and the house elf scowled at me. So he wasn't dead as Sirius had thought yesterday. "What – what are you doing, if I may ask?"

"_Master_ Black," Kreacher began then he paused to shudder _and_ wince, because one expression of distaste at being forced to call Sirius 'master' simply would not have been enough, "wishes for you to wake up, and join him in the kitchen." Then the house elf disappeared with a loud crack leaving behind a faint smell of very old cheese. I got up, got dressed, and was about to go downstairs when I suddenly remembered that I had brought Sirius' birthday present with me. He had turned 35 on the 30th of November two weeks ago. I had sent him a birthday card, with the cryptic message 'with my condolences, Moony', but had wanted to give him the present in person. I pointed my wand at my coat which I had left on the bed and said "accio present!". The small box sprung from a pocket and into my hand. I put it into my trouser pocket and headed downstairs.

In the daylight I was able to see what the house was like a lot more clearly, which was unfortunate for a number of reasons. Firstly I could see just how much work we would have to do. Aside from the dust and the extraordinary number of cobwebs (some of which looked like they had been made by spiders at least a foot long), there was mould growing up the walls, fairy eggs stuck to the lamps; there was also the Devil's Snare that had caught me yesterday: the plant had taken over a bathroom on the third floor and was so overgrown that you could hardly make out the bath or toilet that the vines were wrapped around; apparently Sirius' flame spell had only injured it and now it was whipping its tendrils with more fury than ever. Secondly the décor was quite grotesque: even in the day it was dingy and every portrait I passed hissed at me and muttered offensive comments.

I made it to the ground floor with my ego only mildly bruised. Then I discovered that if there is such a thing as the worst morning greeting, Mrs Blacks "DISGUSTING FOUL BEAST! WEREWOLF SCUM! KILLER!" would definitely be a contender for first place. I shuddered and massaged my temples. Sirius appeared at the top of the stone stairs that led to the kitchen.

"Dear God shut up!" Sirius yelled at his screaming mother. She ignored him so Sirius encouraged me to quickly move out of he line of sight. Down in the kitchen Sirius, apparently bored, had started to remove the bundimun from the kitchen ceiling. Flakes of the sticky fungus littered the long wooden kitchen table, the many eyes that adorned each flake darting nervously in all directions. Judging from the large metal spatula in his hand and the rubber gloves he was removing it by hand.

"Magic just didn't work, it's pretty stubborn stuff." Sirius said brightly by way of explanation.

"I see. We'll have to check that it's not caused any dammage to the beams." I said. I then noticed Kreacher loitering neer the stove, mumbling something about Sirius being a blood traiter.

"Come on!" Sirius barked at him. "Help clear some of this up." Kreacher glared at the last of the Blacks, but dutifully went to fetch a dustpan and brush. Sirius sighed and shook his head.

"I found him in the boiler room," he told me. "He was hiding I think. He's a nasty little shite."

"It's a shame he saw you." I remarked, "now that he knows you're here, you can't free him in case he tells someone. If _I_ had found him, I could have freed him."

"Oh bugger, you're right." Sirius said pointing the spatular at me.

"Don't point that at me." I remarked, and Sirius withdrew the utensil.

"Though, I don't know if he'd cope with freedom – what would he do? He's been alone in this house for thirteen years, he'd probably melt if he went into sunlight."

"Do you think he knows that he's saying that out loud?" I added when Kreacher returned and began to brush up the bundimum all the while muttering "they should go back to the dung heap where they came from..."

Sirius shrugged, "dunno."

We stared at the aged house elf for a few minutes then I changed subject: "Anyway, what did you call me down for?"

"Im hungry." Sirius said as if that were the answer to any and all questions anyone had ever posed.

"And?"

"Well, there's no food here obviously, so we'll have to go back to yours." Sirius said. "We'll get some breakfast, check on Buckbeak and then plan the rest of the day form there."

"Yes alright," I agreed, "I've got a birthday present for you first though." I added pulling the present from my pocket. Sirius raised his eyebrows and put the spatula down on the table then took the present with his rubber encased hands.

"You didn't have to get me a present." Sirius said turning the box over in his hands.

"I didn't really."

"What?"

"Just open it, you'll understand. Congratulations on turning 35." I told him as he opened the box.

"I'm not 35!" Sirius insisted pointing a finger at me.

"Yes you are."

"I'm not. I'm a ripened 31." Sirius said, "oh bloody hell," he added when he saw what was in the box. It was a small bronze dagger. The dagger had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff and enabled the owner to control all the enchanted armour in Hogwarts. After Helga Hufflepuff's death the dagger was passed down Hufflepuff heads of houses, however, sometime in the thirties it was stolen. Hogwarts armour can of course be controlled by a witch or wizard sufficiently skilled in magic without the aid of the dagger, nevertheless it was a historically valuable object and there had been much speculation over where it disappeared to. In our fourth year, we that is, the Marauders, learnt that many thought the dagger was lost somewhere in the lake.

Keen to investigate this possibility we tried to figure out what sort of magic might help us find it. The fact that the dagger had evaded location for forty years by witches and wizards far more skilled than four fourteen year old boys did not diminish our confidence. And, in the end, Sirius put all those witches and wizards to shame when he managed to get his hands on the dagger by seducing a mermaid! I am not kidding, that boy could seduce anything. Of course said mermaid was not best pleased when Sirius had to tell her "look honey, you're part fish, I'm fourteen – this just isn't going to work!"; Sirius couldn't go near the lake for the rest of the year lest he be mysteriously pelted with Salmon.

Anyway, we had the dagger and immediately put it to good use. For the next few weeks we commanded the armour to do all sorts of ridiculous things: an epic four-hour conga all round the castle, chasing first years around the grounds, sneakily following Snape and hiding every time he turned around to see what the clanking was, curtseying every time Dumbledore walked past. We were suspected of course, but Filch could never prove anything, as no-one could work out how we were doing it.

Sirius sniggered as he pulled the small dagger out of its box and admired it.

"How did you get this?" He asked as he examined the blunt blade. "You made us give it back." This was true, after a while my conscience wouldn't let me allow my friends to keep the dagger. So I convinced them to let me return it to its rightful owner: Professor Spout. When I gave it to her, she wasn't entirely sure what to do with us as on the one hand, we had been causing havoc with it for the last three weeks, but on the other, we had retrieved an important historical artefact; what's more she admitted that she did rather enjoy it when the armour would suddenly break into song over breakfast. So she sought Dumbledore's advice and he, rather fairly, decided that Gryffindor should loose forty points for interrupting lessons and frightening first years etc, but should gain fifty for retrieving the dagger: a net gain of ten points which wasn't at all bad.

"They gave it to me when we left school remember?" I reminded Sirius. "For my NEWT results."

"Oh yes. But you can't give it to me, it's yours."

"You were technically the one that found it."

"But it's surely worth quite a bit – you can't just to give to me as a sodding birthday present, keep it Moony." Sirius insisted putting the dagger back into the box and forcing it into my hand.

"No I want you to have it." I said pushing the box back into his, "I've missed your last twelve birthdays, you deserve something good. Besides, it's too good to pawn, and that's exactly what will happen if I keep it."

"Pawn? What?" Sirius asked me, suddenly serious. I smiled and tried to shrug it off. "What's going on?"

"Oh it's nothing don't worry about it." I said rubbing my left eyebrow in what I hoped was a causal way.

"No, it's not, you've got that panicky look in your eyes, just like when you told me you'd kissed my girlfriend." Sirius said and I laughed uncomfortably.

"Oh, it's just...I'm just, well, completely broke." I said by way of explanation, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down. "I am so behind in my mortgage payments. I've been selling anything I can to try and make up some money...I've had to sell almost all of my mother's paintings...but, they are still threatening to repossess my house." This was the first time I had actually admitted out loud just how in debt I was. I chewed my bottom lip and continued to rub my eyebrow, surreptitiously hiding behind my hand. Perhaps it was a male thing, but I was horribly ashamed of my poverty. And I hated being unemployed: I hated that I had failed in that aspect of my life (not that I had succeeded in any other area). I had sent off lots applications but every employer sent me the same letter: "Dear Mr Lupin, thank you for your application. Unfortunately we are unable to offer you the post of latin teacher/transfiguration tutor/teaching assistant/librarian/office clerk as we think it would be inappropriate for a man of your circumstances/disposition/condition to work in a school/an office/anywhere where there are people." I had finished another paper on consciousness and magic and sent it to an Oxford journal, but it would probably be weeks before I heard from them.

Sirius sat down opposite me.

"Right." He said scratching his chin. "Do you want to borrow some money?"

"No. Of course not, I'll be fine." I insisted at once.

"Come one Moony, put your pride aside," Sirius said, he took a moment to smile at the rhyme, then continued, "I've got a vault full of gold, most of which I didn't earn, and it's not like I can use it being a convict in hiding. Though having said that, I really need some new clothes..." Sirius paused to examine the threadbare sweater and the jeans he had stolen from me.

"I look like a tramp." He concluded and I groaned inwardly. "Anyway, seriously, I'll give you enough to catch up with your mortgage and you can pay me back when you can."

"No, I'm sure I'll get a job soon, and until then I can, I don't know...sell my blood. I'm sure there's a market for werewolf blood somewhere."

"I insist. I'm lending you the money." Sirius said, "we can't have you loosing that house."

"Thank you Sirius, this really does mean a lot to me." I said after a few minutes feeling gracelessly humble.

"No problem." Sirius replied with a grin. "And thanks for by birthday present. Now, how about breakfast?"

NB This chapter was quite tricky: it is hard to write close male friendships. I'm men do have close male relationships, but they don't talk about them much, so it's hard for me to know what they are like. Also, I know 'I could hear the grin on his face' seems like a paradox – but you really can tell from someone's voice if they are smiling or not. Well I think you can.


	40. The Bowman Wright Library

Just to reassure you, updates WILL become more frequent again once my finals are over, which will only be another few weeks. I have my first one next week – seriously freaking out! I wish I had Remus around to reassure me...

Chapter 40

I spent the vast majority of the holiday season with Sirius in Grimmauld Place trying to make the place habitable. We killed the Devil's Snare then, with Dragon Hide gloves and gardening sheers, pulled the leafy carcass from the bathroom; we removed all the Pogrebin eggs and I managed to convince Sirius to collect them in a glass jar rather than burn them so that we could sell them; we did the same with the fairy eggs. By and large though, what we spent most of the time doing was dusting, scrubbing and brushing. We didn't bother with most rooms, instead we only cleaned the ones we thought we'd use: the kitchen, the library, Sirius' room and Regulus' room, which was to be mine whenever I wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place. Obviously, as I could apparate home whenever I wanted, I understand that why I would want to stay overnight at Grimmauld Place isn't immediately obvious. In fact, there were three reasons why I sometimes stayed overnight. Firstly, often after spending the whole day trying to get the kitchen safe to cook in, like the first night, I was just too tired to apparate home.

Secondly, it was nice to keep Sirius company. It had been a long time since I had been able to spend this much time with him and, well, I had missed him. He is very irritating, and quite childish, but a lot of fun really. When he's in a good mood that is. I don't know whether the cause was Azkaban or just being back in the home that he hated, but Sirius had developed an aptness for sudden and striking changes in temper. Whenever he came across something that reminded him of things he'd rather forget, or if I mentioned that it was time that I went home, or if one of us mentioned Peter, or sometimes for no reason at all, Sirius would cease to be his usual cheerful self, and become sullen, bitter and rude. In fairness, Sirius had always been somewhat emotionally capricious; but now the way his mood could flip so easily actually made me a little nervous, and if I'm honest I didn't really like leaving him alone. I was probably overreacting, as Sirius had been living rough on his own for months and had been fine. Nevertheless, until he had got comfortable living in Grimmauld Place (if such a thing were possible) I felt I should do my best to cheer him up.

The third reason I sometimes stayed at Grimmauld Place was that housecleaning was very very boring, and by far the best way of making it more entertaining was to do it whilst drunk. In fact we invented a Grimmauld Place drinking game: every time one of us came across a rat or a mouse, we each had to drink a shot of fire-whisky, every time we found a dodgy stain we had to drink a shot, every time one of us sneezed we had to drink a shot, and every time Mrs Black said 'filth', 'traitor', 'mudblood', 'werewolf' or 'abomination' we had to drink a shot – oh and every ten minutes we had to drink a shot. My poor poor thirty five year old liver hated this game, so did my thirty five year old brain, but Sirius enjoyed it. And as apparating while intoxicated is a sure fire way to get splinched, the Gimmauld Place drinking game often necessitated that I stay overnight at Grimmauld Place.

I spent Christmas with Sirius and we spent most of the day drinking and playing music very loudly to annoy Mrs Black. We had been trying since day one to remove her portrait, but not even the secretions from the bundimum we had removed from the kitchen ceiling loosened her bond with the wall. We concluded that the sticking charm that had been cast on the portrait was too strong for us to hope of countering it. So for fun, we brought the old record player down from Sirius room and drowned out her screams with the music that had been lying around up there. Some of the records should probably been left there – the Hobgoblins' album 'Dragon Hide Y-fronts' being a prime example. But there were a few good ones: Fleetwood Mac, Steely Dan, Roxy Music's 'Stranded'. There was also a Stealers Wheel album.

I couldn't remember what was on this album at first but Sirius soon reminded me.

"Stuck in the middle with you?" He said, his voice slurring slightly from all the whiskey we had drunk, then in response to my blank expression he sang a section: "Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right..."

"Oh yes I remember." I lied. Sirius grabbed the album impatiently from me. He took the record from its sleeve and positioned it on the record player.

"Can't believe you don't remember this." Sirius said, "it's our song." He added and I raised my eyebrows.

"Our song?" I repeated in shock, "I'm sorry, I didn't realise we were a couple." I added mockingly and Sirius glared at me and downed his fire whiskey. Then he wafted away the steam that eminated from his ears and started to play the record.

"The bit where it goes 'you promised you're a self made man, and your friends come along and slap you on the back and pleeeeeaaase'" Sirius sang at me, "thats me, and James, singing it to you, 'cos you have this weird delusion that you have to do everything by yourself, and James and I, well like the song says, we slap you on the back and say pleeeeeeease."

"Oh I see." I acknowledged as I watched Sirius start to shrug his shoulders in time with the music.

"It's quite good I suppose. The bit that goes 'I'm so scared that I'll fall off my chair' suits you quite well." I commented slyly. "Especially now." I added as Sirius accidentally backed into the banister and almost fell into the stairs.

"Hey! You can talk: you are one shot away from getting up and doing the jive." Sirius retorted, his slightly out of focus eyes looking affronted, and I snorted. But it was true. A shot each later and we were both dancing through the house, magically giving the portraits afros, or flairs, or ridiculous seventies sunglasses, while Mrs Black shouted at us:

"Damn this vile disco! Stop singing! You don't even know the lyrics you idiots!"

By the new year, thanks to Sirius' loan and the money we made selling the various magical flora and fauna we had found in number 12, I had caught up with my debts. What's more I actually managed to get myself a job!

Ever since Tonks had told me that the book I had written years ago was in the Bowman Wright Library, I had wanted to see this for myself. Not entirely sure why, perhaps it was curiosity, though it was more likely to be a slightly pathetic quest for self-affirmation, but nevermind. I went to the library after Christmas to see if it was there.

The Bowman Wright Library is a vast impressive castle, that originally belonged to King Arthur. Since then, the castle has been used for many different purposes. It was home to Morgan le Fey, who, as legend would have it, laid claim to the castle after winning a battle against some of King Arthur's decedents. It was tossed between magical and muggle hands during the numerous Medieval conflicts between wizards and muggles. In the seventeenth century it was used exclusively by the muggle King Charles the first as a place for him to hide diring the English Civil War. Records imply that King Charles was unaware of the castle's magical history, although he apparently commented to his cavaliers that the castle seemed 'haunted and disturbing'. After Charles was captured and executed, and the castle was left empty for at least a hundred years until it was reclaimed by a group of sorcerers who supported a movement called Magical Holism. This movement was largely inspired by the success of Darwin's The Origin of the Species, and of the muggle scientific method in general. Supporters of Magial Holism wanted to take a more scientific approach to magic and believed that a far better understanding of the human species, and of magic, would be gained if magic and muggle science were combined. Sadly the rest of the magical population didn't share this view: most magical people in the nineteenth century were not ready to forgive muggles for the inhumanity they showed witches and wizards during the Medieval wars and witch-hunts, and so boycotted all muggle practices. So the magical holists used the castle as a place to conduct their research in secret.

By twentieth century, these witches and wizards had made several impressive advances in magic including discovering how to magically alter space so that containers could be made bigger on the inside; developing a magical version of muggle antibiotics; and, of course, Bowman Wright's invention of time travel just weeks before his paradoxical suicide.

(As the story goes, Wright was in his office when, all of a sudden, a future version of himself materialised next to him. In confusion and panic Wright accidentally killed the future version of himself. Realising what he had done, Wright decided to travel into the future to prevent his future self from travelling back. He checked the time on the watch that the dead version of himself was wearing, and saw the future version was only an hour older than he was, so Wright travelled forward an hour. When Wright arrived in the future he adjusted his watch to the 'local' time (which some say was his fatal mistake) and set about looking for his future self. Wright searched the castle for his future self but, to his great distress, he couldn't find himself. Desperate to prevent his own death, Wright decided to take a different approach: instead of stopping his future self from travelling back, Wright decided to stop his past self from killing his future self. So Wright travelled back to the moment just before he had killed his future self. He arrived in his office and saw his past self standing by his desk. Wright was about to try to convince himself no to kill the man that was about to materialise in his office when Wright realised what a horrible mistake he had made! _He_ was the future version about to be killed! His watch was even at the correct time. Wright tried in vain to stop the murder he had already seen take place, but to no avail. Wright was killed by his past self and the strange time loop was closed.)

Given the impressive discoveries of the magical holists, which were only possible because of their more scientific approach, the Ministry of Magic began to realise that there might be something to their theory. So the Ministry teamed up with the University of Oxford and set up the faculty of supernatural science where magic could be researched using both magical and muggle resources. The castle was then turned into a library and named after Bowman Wright. To this day, the library represents a modern, holistic approach to magical research, despite the resistance there still is to this view.

Anyway, now that I've explained the history of the library I should probably get back to the point! I found the section of the library where my book would be, but couldn't find it on any of the shelves. So I went to the long reference desk to ask the librarian if it had been taken out. The librarian was about my age, pretty in a haughty kind of way with silky blond hair tied in a messy knot at the back of her head.

"Consciousness and Magic..." The librarian mumbled to herself as she tapped her wand to a crystal ball that held records of all the books in the library, "by RJ Lupin?" She added to check.

"Yes." I replied in confirmation, in the almost-whisper that was the norm when speaking in a library.

"It is still checked out I'm afraid." She told me, "due back next week." She added looking at me through her pink-framed spectacles.

"You only have one copy?" I questioned.

"Afraid so. It's rather a niche book." She added with a smile that showed off how absolutely perfect her teeth were – there were so flawless that I knew they had been magicked to look that way.

"I see, well thank you anyway." I said and I turned to walk away, but then she spoke to me again.

"Wait." I turned back towards her. "Aren't _you_ RJ Lupin?" I saw the small smile playing at the corner of her mouth and blushed a little.

"Uh, yes. Someone told me the book was here – I just wanted to check." I admitted sheepishly.

"I understand." The librarian said with a tilt of her head that caused a strand of her silky hair to fall into her eyes.

"Well, thanks again." I said as she flicked the strand out of her face, and bit her lip.

"You don't remember me do you?" She said, with a look in her eyes that kindled a tingling feeling in my abdomen.

"Er, I'm very sorry, but no. Where did we meet?" I said.

"I'm Emmeline Vance, oh though you'd have known me as Emmeline Walters," Emmeline Vance said, "I was in the year below you at Hogwarts."

"Ah I see. Well, I'm impressed you remember me."

"What? Of course I remember you!" She said with excitement, her glasses slipping down her thin nose. She took them off then looked at me with her naked eyes. "You were one of the coolest in school." I raised my eyebrows and couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. The people working on the near by desks looked up at me with disapproval.

"I fear you must be mistaking me for someone else." I said leaning on the desk in an attempt to be debonair.

"No it's definitely you. You used to hang out with James Potter, and Sirius Black." As she said Sirius' name her eyes narrowed slightly and she looked slightly angry. I wondered if that was just because she, like the rest of the wizarding world, saw Sirius as the Voldemort supporter and murderer, or whether perhaps she was, like so many girls who went to Hogwarts in the seventies, one of Sirius's ex-girlfriends.

"You guys were revered by the whole school." Emmeline continued, "even when James became head boy that didn't dampen his cool."

"I can see how you'd think James and Sirius were cool, sort of, but me?" I questioned quietly giving Emmeline an inquisitive look.

"Yeah," Emmeline said leaning forward in her chair so she was close enough for her to whisper and I still be able to hear her, "you were...quieter than the others, more sensible perhaps, but you had a certain mystery about you that was very...attractive. We all secretly fancied you."

"Good lord." I whispered back grinning slightly. "If only I had known." Then I mentally chastised myself for flirting. Still, at least this woman was not a decade younger than me.

"So what are you doing now? Last I heard you were teaching at Hogwarts." Emmeline asked.

"Mm I was, but my post now belongs to Alastor Moody." I said with regret.

"Oh yes." Emmeline said with a look of dim recollection on her face, "I remember reading about you in paper...what did it say? Oh it doesn't matter, what are you doing now?"

"Um, I am...writing a few papers." I said, fearing that I was quickly loosing all the cool Emmeline had previously ascribed to me. "But apart from that..."

"Oh." She said looking slightly awkward, she chewed her lip for a few minutes, "you know, if you're looking for work, the library's looking for a new research librarian – it's pretty good pay and you'd be perfect for it."

"Mm, I applied for it." I admitted.

"Ah, of course," Emmeline said grinning, "do you have an interview?"

"Um, no."

"What? Why not?" Emmeline said with genuine shock and I smiled but didn't say anything. Then suddenly her eyes grew wide again and her mouth opened slightly as if she had just remembered something. I felt a tightness in my chest as I knew what she had realised.

"Oh my God..." She murmured, and she put her hand over her mouth. I decided it was time for me to leave, I cleared my throat.

"Well, anyway, it was nice seeing you Emmeline. Goodbye."

I began to walk towards the exit, but she was suddenly behind me tugging on my elbow.

"Wait." She said quietly, then she glanced around as if to check there was no-one listening in. "I'm sorry. I forgot that you were – I didn't mean to say 'oh my god' like that I er..."

"It's quite alright." I replied. "Don't apologise."

"Is that why – is that why they didn't give you an interview?" She asked shyly, and I paused unsure whether this was really something I should be discussing with someone I hardly know.

"To my understanding." I replied. Emmeline fiddled her pretty gold wrist watch for a few moments then said:

"Look, I'm going to have a word with Mr Walters – the head librarian – because there's no reason why you shouldn't get an interview even if you are...what you are." I felt impressed that she didn't seem frightened or prejudiced, and grateful that she seemed to think that I had been treated unfairly by her superiors. But at the same time, my pride wouldn't let me accept a favour easily.

"Thank you, but there is no need." I said.

"Seriously, it's not a problem." Emmeline said. She insisted for a few minutes more until I acquiesced to let her get me an interview. Apparently Mr Walters was not only the head librarian, but was also Emmeline's father, 'Vance' was the name she had taken from her ex-husband, and it seemed Mrs Vance had quite a lot of sway over her father's decisions as a few days later I got a letter from the Bowman Wright library inviting me for an interview. The interview was tricky, but only because the library were apprehensive (to say the least) about hiring a werewolf. Apart from turning into a hairy fanged monster once a month, I was exactly what they wanted: I was a professor of magic, I had worked for Oxford's faculty of supernatural science, I had good references, I was a published author (admittedly of only one book, but that was a minor detail). But despite my credentials, the fact that I was a werewolf was a major obstacle in their eyes: what would the public think if the Bowman Wright library hired a lycanthrope? I assured them that, despite it being mentioned in the papers a few months ago, my being a werewolf wasn't actually common knowledge – and none of the people I would liaise with while working would guess, as contrary to popular belief when it's not the full moon werewolves are just like anybody else. Apparently my argument persuaded them as they gave me the job, which really was fantastic news. I enjoyed the work (because it meant I got to read a lot of books), and the pay _was_ very reasonable.

I didn't actually see Emmeline very much, because I was usually in a reading room or in one of the Library's offices, what's more she only worked there three days a week. Working for her father was only to give her something to do in her free time, because Emmeline was actually a very wealthy professional dualist. When I did see her however, I was disappointed to find that she was a lot less flirty. Apparently, although she secretly fancied my at school, now that my mystery had been disolved and my monstrous secret revealed, I wasn't quite so cool.


	41. A Marvellous Metamorphmagus

Okay guys here's a new chapter. I'm afraid I haven't read it though very carefully because I wanted to get it up ASAP, so very very sorry for inevitable typos. Also this chapter has quite a lot packed into it so I hope it doesn't feel too rushed.

Chapter 41

"I wish I could come." Sirius whined at me for the hundredth time.

"I know. You've said." I said a little impatiently as I pulled on my cloak, then turned to the mirror of the console table that sat in the hallway of Grimauld place. I touched the streaks of grey in my hair and grimaced slightly. I had recently had my hair cut. Being employed again allowed me such indulgences, and it had gotten rather long. I had thought that cutting it short again would make the grey less noticeable but now I wasn't so sure. I could have magicked it away for a few hours I suppose, or used some Grey-away potion, but that seemed a bit vain for me. I noticed Sirius face looking at me through the mirror. One of his eyebrows was arched and his eyes were narrowed with incredulity.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm checking myself in the mirror." I replied, calmly turning away from my reflection.

"Why?" Sirius said still looking very confused. I sighed and squared my shoulders defensively.

"What do you mean why? To see what I look like, that _is_ what mirrors are for after all." I responded.

"I know." Sirius retorted with equal impatience. "But you don't normally care what you look like. Most days you just breeze out in your tattered jacket and your scuffed boots with the sole coming off; most days you don't even shave."

"I do." I argued, glancing back at my recently shaved face. "I shave for work."

"Ah! Yeah, that's sort of my point actually," said Sirius his silver eyes bright with cunning, "you only take care of your appearance when you have a reason to. So what's the reason this time?"

"Because I'm going to a party Sirius." I replied putting my hands in my pockets and staring the wizard down. Sirius chewed his lip and narrowed his eyes. I could see the battle going on in his mind. I had given a perfectly reasonable reason for being concerned about what I looked like, but still Sirius had a feeling that that wasn't all there was to it. He was suspicious of me, he thought I might be trying to impress someone. But he had no real proof, only a gut feeling, and he knew I'd never be convinced to confess anything unless he had some proof to threaten me with. So Sirius was torn: should he continue to question me or give up and hope that some explanation would present itself in the future. I smirked knowing that all this was going on in Sirius' mind. Sirius tutted at my smirk and folded his arms.

"Whatever." He concluded grumpily. "Man, I wish I could go."

"I _know_ Padfoot."

"I really miss Andromeda." He continued, ignoring me, "And little Nymphadora."

"She's not little anymore." I said.

"She'll always be little to me, though." Sirius said looking at the console table as he reminisced. "She was so cute, do you remember?"

"Um, not really."

"Ah, well you only went round once or twice. She was such a hyper toddler – running around on her little short legs with her crazy hair. It was a different colour every day."

Sirius looked up at me to see if his description had triggered any memories. It had, but not of Tonks as a toddler. Instead I was thinking about her as she was now. Energetic and exciting, but athletic with long slender legs. Though I suppose she still changed her hair quite a lot.

"I remember Andromeda telling her off for morphing too much. She used to morph while you were talking to her – it was so weird, but so endearing." Sirius explained. "I don't think she really realised she was doing it, she'd just sort of constantly change. She'd be telling you about what she did at school and the whole time her nose would be getting bigger or her eyes changing colour."

I smiled but didn't say anything as I remember how Tonks' eyes still sometimes change colour without her seeming to mean them to: I remembered how they had changed from blue to gold when she spoke to me that time we had lunch together. Sirius sighed and crossed his arms again.

"Anyway..." He said, "I'd ask you to wish Happy Birthday to Andromeda for me, but that would probably get you into trouble, so just try not to have too much fun without me."

"I'm sure I wont have to try too hard." I said with a grin. Sirius rolled his eyes and tromped up the stairs, no doubt to smash things in his mother's room with Buckbeak, which had become a fond pastime of his. I glanced at my reflection one more time.

"He has no idea." I told it, then I sighed because I felt excited about seeing her again and I knew I shouldn't. I was only hurting myself. _It was never going to happen. _

I apparated to Andromeda's doorstep and rang the bell. Andromeda and Ted lived on a muggle street in Lambeth in a rather nice three bedroom terraced house with a yellow front door. From what Tonks had told me, I knew that her and her parents had moved there when Tonks was eleven, just before she was due to start Hogwarts, when her favourite hair colour was French blue and she had a slight Parisian accent. I also knew that she had the attic bedroom because she used to climb out of the skylight and sit on the roof and look at the stars – astronomy was a favourite subject of hers. I looked up to see if I could see said skylight, but of course I couldn't. I could see another window though, one that faced the street which had a window box with what looked like asphodel and dittany growing in it. The door then opened and I drew my eyes down to it. Ted smiled warmly at me.

"Hello Remus." He said patting me on the shoulder as he guided me into his house. I could hear the sound of people talking and laughing with music playing in the background. I followed Ted into their large kitchen/living area where everyone was gathered. There were ballons and lanterns hung by magic in the air, and there were a few fairies flitting about the place, occasionally throwing confetti or glitter over the guests. Normally I don't like fairies as they tend to be irritating, vain little creatures; but these fairies seemed to be uncharacteristically genial. I could see their small faces smiling at the guests when they laughed at having confetti thrown over them, as if they were genuinely pleased that the guests were enjoying themselves. Ted waved at Andromeda who was talking to Hamish MacFarlan, who had been captain of the Montrose Magpies quidditch team when I was a boy. (I wasn't quite sure what he did now; possibly he was working for the Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports.) Andromeda ended her conversation with him to come and say hello to me.

"So glad you could come Remus!" She said kissing my cheek.

"I've brought you a gift." I said handing her the small wrapped package.

"Oh! I didn't expect you to get me a present!" She said with happy surprise.

"I hope you like it, I wasn't really sure what to get you." I admitted. Andromeda smiled with anticipation and unwrapped the present. It was a book about nineteen sixties magical photography, which was when the muggle practice of taking photographs became popular in the magical world and the magic used to capture someone's character in a photograph was developed.

"Oh how lovely!" Andromeda said flicking through the glossy pictures of those elegant nineteen sixties photographs.

"Tonks mentioned you liked photography..." I said shyly, glancing at the similar arty photographs in frames on the walls of her living room.

"Yes I do. Thank you." She said putting one arm around me and kissing my cheek again. "You should go find Dora, she's been looking forward to seeing you." Andromeda said causally as she continued to admire the book. I felt a tingling in my stomach and glanced around the room for someone with pink or blue or green hair. Sadly most people seemed to have hair of various shades of brown, with a few blondes and reds thrown in (the Weasleys).

"She's going to sing later I think." Ted said with a broad grin brimming with pride.

"Oh really?" Andromeda said happily. Ted's smile slipped as he noted Andromeda's surprise.

"Didn't you know?"

"No." Andromeda said, "I though it was just going to be the boys."

"Oh, er, it may have been a surprise...oops." Ted said blushing. Andromeda laughed and hit her husband on the arm.

"I'll just pretend." She said.

"Anyway, do say hello to her, she's over there," Ted added pointing to someone to my left, I turned but didn't see her. I felt a flush of embarrassment at not being able to recognise her. Not wanting to admit it, I started walking in the direction Ted had indicated, towards two young women who were chatting happily to each other. One was slightly shorter and a bit plumper, with black hair and small eyes. I figured she couldn't be Tonks, so I tapped the shoulder of the girl with long brown hair who was turned away from me. To my enormous relief the girl who turned around gave me and unmistakable smile.

"Yay! You came!" She said happily throwing her arms around my shoulders. I tried not to come across as too awkward but by the time I had worked up the courage to put just one arm around her, she had let me go. I think I managed to hide my embarrassment behind a polite smile. She looked quite different to how she had the last time I saw her, apart from her mouth of course, which was as delicious as always. Her eyes were a little bigger than last time I thought, and a lovely pale blue colour. Her skin was a bit paler than last time too, and she had more freckles. Her nose was slightly bigger as well but very well proportioned and perfectly straight – almost too perfect actually, I got the distinct impression that Tonks had spent a good part of the morning morphing her nose to geometrical perfection. Her hair was most different, which was why I hadn't recognised her. On most of our past encounters, Tonk's hair had been short, or at least never longer than her shoulders; but today it reached her waist at least. It was an ashy brown colour and tied into a messy plait that hung down over one shoulder. It looked lovely.

"I like your hair like that." I told her and she grinned.

"Thanks." She said. "I'm glad you do." I licked my lips and paused to see if she would explain why she was glad.

"I'm just going to get another drink." Tonk's friend interjected, before drifting off towards the kitchen and leaving us alone.

"This is my natural hair." Tonks confessed when her friend had gone, and I couldn't help but feel a little giddy.

"Wow." I said before I could think of something more eloquent. Tonks chuckled while I admired her unmorphed tresses. "It's really long." I added feeling like every second I was becoming more of an idiot.

"Yeah, well I never cut it." Tonks told me. "I don't need to, if I want to make it shorter I can just morph it."

"Of course, that makes sense." I said, then I licked my lips again wondering if I should say what I wanted to say. I admired the way her soft hair gently brushed against her face when she moved and longed to touch it. A lovelorn surge of adrenaline prompted me to be bold: "you know, ever since I met you I've wondered what you look like...un-morphed." Tonks' smile faded a little but didn't disappear completely.

"Everyone wonders that." She said.

"Do they." I said, worrying that I had offended her somehow.

"I don't change myself that much." Tonks said, shrugging slightly and playing with her hair. "It can be...distracting if I make myself really different too often."

"For you, or for other people?" I asked, remembering what Sirius had said earlier.

"Er, both actually." Tonks told me, "you see, er, well it _feels_ different when I'm morphed."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." I said, and Tonks' lips twitched slightly. She seemed to feel slightly awkward talking about this; she was blushing and fiddling with her hair, as if she was talking about some desease that she had. I glanced at her slender fingers winding themselves in her long hair, then noticed the badges she had pinned to her khaki jacket. She had four, and each had an action shot of one of the triwizard champions painted on it. There was a picture of Viktor Krum dodging a jet of dragon's fire, a picture of Cedric Diggory shooting a spell from his wand, a picture of Fleur Delacour jumping down from a pile of dragon's eggs with a golden one under her arm, and one of Harry on his broomstick diving towards a golden egg.

"I see you are supporting all four champions." I remarked casually.

Tonks grinned, "Oh yeah. I couldn't choose between them. I have to support Cedric of course, 'cos he's a Hufflepuff." Tonks explained pointing to her Cedric badge.

"Oh, you were a Hufflepuff?" I said happily, thinking how much Hufflepuff suited her. She was certainly hardworking enough to be a Ravenclaw, and definitely brave enough to be a Gryffindor, but given her modesty and kindness and honesty it made perfect sense for her to be Hufflepuff.

"Yeah. And you're a Gryffindor." She said pointing her finger at me.

"How did you know?"

"You were friends with James Potter and...Sirius." I saw a brief moment of pain flash in Tonks eyes as she mentioned the cousin she thought had betrayed her. I felt enormously tempted to grab her by the wrist and apparate with her back to Grimmauld place, so I could show her that Sirius was the same man he always had been, just so I could erase that look of pain. But of course I couldn't. She would arrest him, and me as well probably.

"And I know they were in Gryffindor." Tonks continued.

"I see. Well you are right."

"You suit Gryffindor." She said her eyes wandering over my face, "anyway, yeah," she added looking back down at her badges.

"Fleur is an old friend of mine." Tonks said pointing to her Fleur badge.

"She is?" I looked at the surreally beautiful young woman on Tonks' badge.

"Yeah, I used to babysit her. She lived, like, five minutes down the road from me in Paris." Tonks said, "oh she was such a madam when she was little! She's not really like that now, thank God. She used to make me play princesses with her." Tonks wrinkled her noise in a most un-princess like manner and fiddled with the many piercings she had on her right ear.

"She's coming today actually, with her family." Tonks told me before moving on to the Harry badge, "Er, actually, the only reason I'm supporting Harry is because you like him, and because he seems to get a lot of flack in the papers so...Gotta back the underdog."

"I see. And Krum?"

"Krum? Oh, well, he's a beast."

"Pardon me?"

"He's good looking." Tonks explained making me feel about a hundred years old.

"Really?" I said examining the likeness of him painted on the badge. "He looks kind of...angry."

"Ah you're a man. You wouldn't understand." Tonks said, her voice teasing. I rolled my eyes then asked if I could get her a drink. She asked for a butterbeer so I headed towards the kitchen to get some.

All the drinks were laid out neatly on the kitchen table, along with piles of plates and knives and forks, for whatever we would be eating shortly. I took two bottles of butterbeer and opened them by magic, then headed back through the crowd towards Tonks. But before I could get there, Molly Weasley called my name.

"How are you Remus? We've not seen you for while. How was Christmas?"

"It was alright thank you. Quite quiet." I replied, amusing myself by imagining how Molly would react if I told her that I had spent Christmas with Britain's most wanted wizard. Molly tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear and proceeded to tell me about how Percy had been promoted, and was now Barty Crouch's personal assistent.

"He's very pleased," Molly said, and something told me that Molly wasn't quite as pleased about Percy's promotion as Percy was, "he went to the Yule Ball at Hogwarts as Mr Crouch's representative."

"Why didn't Crouch go?" I questioned.

"Oh, he's not very well apparently," Molly told me, with a concerned look on her face, "Arthur says that he's not been able to come into the Ministry to work for weeks, and the last time we saw him he did look terribly pale and drawn."

"Oh dear," I remarked, "unfortunate timing, what with the tournament in full swing."

"Yes, Percy reckons it's the tournament that's draining Mr Crouch." Molly remarked, "he really needs it to go well after all, as he's received a lot of criticism in the newspapers lately. Rita Skeeter has not one nice thing to say about him." Molly held up her index finger to emphasise her point and her homemade earrings wobbled.

"Yes, I've noticed." I agreed. "The Prophet won't let him forget about his house elf being found with a wand the night the dark mark was cast." Molly shuddered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself, clearly remembering how close to danger her children had been that night.

"Yes, though how a house elf could have done that is still beyond me." Molly said, and I nodded in agreement. I glanced up to check that Tonks was still waiting for me, but she had disappeared. I felt a tug in my chest and quickly excused myself so I could go look for her. I snaked my way past the guests, reluctantly stopping to greet the people that I knew: Sturgis Podmore (a slightly crooked cauldron seller who I often played black jack with when we were both in the Order of the Phoenix), Arthur and Charlie Weasley, Mr and Mrs Diggory and Amelia Bones.

Eventually I found Tonks again. She was sitting cross legged on the sofa near the window fraying the hems of her jeans with a severing charm. Her old boyfriend Tom Abbot was leaning over the back of the sofa as he talked to her. Tonks wasn't looking at him, and didn't seem that interested in what Tom had to say; at the same time however, she didn't seem at all hostile towards him. She looked very relaxed in fact. Tom, on the other hand, looked quite put out by the lack of attention Tonks was paying him.

"We're just setting up on the balcony now, we'll play, like, four or five songs then you come on right?" Tom was saying, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Yeah that's cool." Tonks replied nonchalantly. I could see from Tom's expression that he was dying to have a proper conversation with her. The look in his eyes was definitely that of someone who regretted letting her go.

_Yeah well, you did, so bugger off_, I thought as a shameful surge of jealousy gripped me.

"I have your drink." I said to get Tonk's attention and held out the butterbeer for her. She gestured for me to sit next to her and Tom, with an obvious sigh, slunk off to find his band. I gave Tonks her drink and sat down next to her.

"Would I be correct in thinking that you are going to sing with the band?" I asked, and Tonks grinned.

"Yeah," she admitted. "The band are all people I knew at school, and I used to play with them. I don't really anymore – I have a proper job now. But my mum likes it when I sing. She was an opera singer, and I think she wanted me to be one too at one point, but...I wanted to be an auror. But seeing as it's her birthday, I'm going to sing a song or two."

I grinned and drank some butterbeer. I couldn't think of anything to say, as the only thoughts in my head were about how perfect she was, and of course I couldn't tell her that. Tonks took a swig of her drink in the silence, then took the end of her plait in her hand, looked at it, and the bottom three inches slowly changed from its natural brown to bubble gum pink.

"What do you mean when you say that it _feels_ different when you are morphed?" I asked, breaking the silence. I worried that I might be overstepping boundaries asking Tonks about her metamorphing ability, perhaps it would have been more socially appropriate to talk about something boring, like what charms were in fashion, but I'm hopeless at that sort of small talk, and I was desperate to know more about her.

She turned her heart-shaped face to mine, considered me for a moment then spoke.

"Er, well I feel different depending on what I look like." Tonks said, "like, my eyes feel different depending on what colour they are, and my nose feels different depending on what shape it is. It's how I can tell what I look like without looking in a mirror."

I frowned, still not really sure what she meant when she said her eyes _felt_ different. How could her eyes feel like anything? I mean, of course I could feel mine moving inside my head and I would feel pain in them if I poked them, but I didn't think that was what Tonk's meant. She meant that the way she looked had a feel to it, but that made no sense to me.

"Like blue eyes -" Tonks continued obviously sensing I still wasn't getting it "feel different to green eyes." Tonks eyes suddenly changed to a very vivid green, and I gazed in awe at her.

"What do green eyes feel like?" I asked still desperate to understand what she meant. How could the colour of your eyes feel like something?

"Oh, er...I don't know...it's really hard to describe." Tonks said biting her lip and looking somewhere to her left. "Green eyes feel sort of like...the texture of raw spinach leaves."

I laughed, and spilt some of my butterbeer in my lap. I couldn't help it.

"So the way you look – the shape of your body – makes you feel things."

"Yeah, textures usually – tactile qualities anyway."

"Wow. That's...fascinating."

"Yeah, it is a bit weird." Tonks admitted biting her lip and fiddling with her hair again.

"Sorry, is this making you uncomfortable?"

"No it's fine." Tonks said with a shrug.

"Oh, I know what it's like!" She added suddenly, "It's a bit like synesthesia – you know, when people see colours when they hear sounds. I feel different textures depending on how I look. I get it with other people as well a bit. I mean, I feel different things when I look at different people, depending on what they look like."

"Really?" I said, now completely enthralled. I looked at the people in the room with us, talking and dancing, and tried to imagine what it would be like to feel different textures as I looked at them.

"Yeah, like my mum feels like um, lathered soap," Tonks told me rubbing her hands together as one would do when washing them, "and my dad feels like sand – nice sand though, Caribbean sand."

"Sorry, to keep saying it but, wow." I said, then, feeling slightly apprehensive I asked, "what do I feel like?"

Tonks smiled coyly and I felt a fluttering in my stomach.

"You know when it's a slightly cold day, not really cold, just cool?" She said in her velvety voice.

"Mm." I said not sure where this was going.

"And then, the sun comes out and you suddenly get a beam of sunlight falling on your face and neck," Tonks described touching her neck as she spoke, apparently experiencing the feeling as she spoke, "and it's warm and soft, kind of like the sun is kissing you."

I felt a full blown jolt in my stomach rather than innocent fluttering. Tonks smiled at me, obviously completely aware of what I was feeling.

"Well, you feel like that." She said and I swallowed.

"I didn't expect you to say that." I said after a slightly awkward silence. "I can see why that could be distracting."

"It's not that strong a feeling most of the time. It's just like background noise usually, it's only when you ask me to focus on it can I tell what it's like. Or if I morph to something really different to how I naturally look – the more different I look, the more different it feels you see, and the harder it is to ignore."

"What does your natural self feel like?" I asked.

"That is quite a personal question." Tonks said her eyes narrowed in mock admonishment.

"Oh, sorry. You don't have to answer."

"It's alright." Tonks said her eyes glinting. "Different parts of me feel slightly different. My hair feels sort of like that feeling you get when you have dust on your hands. It's not that nice, but you get used to it. My skin feels like when you really gently skim your hands over the top of some water, which is quite nice. If I make it more tanned it feels less like water and more like...er, custard. The darker the thicker the custard." I chuckled slightly at the thought.

"But my natural form has a general feel to it as well." Tonks explained, gesticulating as she spoke. "All together when I'm unmorphed it feels like, er, like a light breeze against your skin."

"That sounds incredible. How do these sorts of feelings compare with the feelings you get, er, the normal way. I mean, how does the feeling of your hair compare to actually feeling dust?"

"It's not as vivid I don't think."

"Are there any appearances that feel horrible?"

"Yeah, ginger hair." Tonks admitted looking utterly ashamed and blushing profusely. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh dear..."

"I know it's really awful." Tonks said clutching her face, "I find it hard to be around people with ginger hair because of the way it feels. Dark red is okay – like, Molly's hair is not too bad. And really vivid red is fine – that, like, fire truck red is fine – it's nice actually, it feels like crunching dry leaves. It's the sort of orange-red that's not nice. It's kind of painful actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah it feels like pins pricking me." Tonks said bitting her colourful nails.

"Oh dear."

"Kind of irritatingly, sometimes when I'm angry, my hair goes orange and I get the pin feeling, unless I make an effort to control it. If I'm really mad, which has only happened, like, two or three times, it really hurts." Tonks confessed, apparently now quite enjoying divulging all this information. "My hair goes tangerine, and it feels like I'm being cut."

"Gosh. Is this why you are so even tempered?"

Tonks laughed, "Maybe."

"What appearances feel nice?"

"Pink hair feels good. Like bubbles popping against your skin. And certain shades of blonde feel really nice. Golden feels like when you're in bed and your really comfy and snuggled in the duvet."

"Sorry I should stop grilling you." I said after a pause. "You probably get this all the time."

"People are interested yes." Tonks said. "But you are a lot nicer about it than most people. Most people either think I'm even more of a freak than they thought to begin with when I tell them about this, and others just think I'm lying."

"I suppose they think that, because it is difficult to imagine."

"Yeah."

There was a stretch of silence between us. I turned away from Tonks and drank my butterbeer, but I could sense that she was still looking at me, examining me just as I had done her.

"I don't suppose you get many people ask you about, er, about..." Tonks began timidly.

"No, I don't." I said saving her the trouble of finding the most discreet way of referring to my lycanthropy. "People aren't interested, just afraid." I admitted, the good feeling I had had when Tonks was talking about her slipping steadily away now that we were talking about me. The silence became increasingly awkward, and I felt like I was in my wolf's body. A human mind, forcefully disconnected from humanity by the grotesque form it was trapped in.

"Perhaps they are interested, they just don't know how to talk about it." Tonks said eventually. I looked towards her, but she was no longer looking in my direction, instead she was playing with the end of her plait again, which she had morphed back to brown, and seemed to be engaged in some deep thinking.

"Perhaps." I acknowledged, though I didn't really believe it. Suddenly we could hear people happily crying out 'hello', and Tonks and I both looked towards the door to see who had arrived. Judging from the bonsoirs and sa vas and bon anniversaires, I reasoned that it was Fleur Delacour and her family. Tonks touched my arm, and I felt my heart beat ever so slightly faster at her touch.

"I'm going to say hello." She said, then she looked right into my eyes, like she was performing legilimency. "Don't go too far." She added with a to-die-for smile. Then she winked at me and gave the arm she was still holding a little squeeze. I smiled back and watched her head towards the triwizard champion. I watched Tonks speaking french to Miss Delacour and kiss her cheeks.

I gave a deep sigh. What was I doing? Every time I saw her I only wanted her more. In an attempt to distract myself I spent the next hour or so mingling with the other guests. I talked with Mr and Mrs Diggory about the first task of the triwizard tournament. Mr Diggory had gone to watch and seemed to have rather enjoyed watching his son battle a dragon. Mrs Diggory, however, said rather little on the subject. Judging by her pale face and anxious expression, I think she would rather her son had not entered the tournament at all.

I spent some time discussing the Ministry's failing attempts to capture those responsible for the chaos caused at the Quidditch World Cup with Amelia Bones. She regretfully told me that too many of the aurors in her department were trying to link Sirius to the attack, even though they had no evidence justifying such an accusation.

"They want to blame it all on one person to make it seem less frightening: one evil person doesn't seem as threatening as a group of people all capable of evil, you see." Amelia had said. "But we don't have any reason to think Black was behind it. I'm worried that fear is stopping the department from conducting a proper investigation. I would hate for the department to end up like it did in the war, when Crouch was head. Remember? He was allowing aurors to go ahead and kill people, and sending people to Azkaban without trials. That's not how a justice system should work! But he was afraid. People do not act logically when they are afraid."

"Surely not everyone in your department is so blinkered by fear." I said, glancing at the youngest auror in Amelia's department as she laughed at something Monseuir Delacour had said.

"Ah, you're thinking of Miss Tonks." Amelia said with a smile as she noticed the direction of my gaze. "Yes, you're right. She's is an asset to the department, she really is. She's rigorous, and extremely astute; doesn't miss a trick. She's on Kingsley Shacklebolt's team, and her, Kingsley and Dawlish are the best of the lot I reckon."

I also discussed muggle television with Arthur Weasley.

"It works by electrickity again does it?" Was one amusing question he had asked me.

"Yes, electricity is used to transform the signal the television set receives into pictures." I had said.

"But...but how? Electrickity is just little tiny particles moving isn't it?"

"Er, yes," I said, suddenly feeling a bit out of my depth. "Those are electrons I think. I'm not entirely sure, but I think the signal causes electrons to fire at a sort of grid of dots, that light up when they are hit, and that's what creates the picture."

"Goodness, how incredible." Arthur remarked.

"It is rather." I agreed. "I can't understand why wizards don't take more of an interest in muggle science. I mean, imagine what we could accomplish if we could combine the two."

"Ah, I know what you mean. Don't tell anyone, but I have a workshop at home full of muggle bits and bobs, and I've been trying to, er, improve them a bit with magic. Recently I've tried taking them apart, enchanting some small part, then putting them back together. But nine times out of ten all that happens is the machine explodes! I'm sure that's just because I don't really understand what all the little parts are supposed to do."

"There's a whole section of muggle books on various machines at the library where I work. Come along and have a look at them if you like."

"Oh that's an idea. Is the library open at weekends?"

"It is indeed. Even Sundays."

When Andromeda encouraged us all to help ourselves to food (a very nice beef bourguignon), I sat and ate mine with Hamish MacFarlan, who spent the greater part of our conversation badmouthing Ludo Bagman.

"He has gambling debts like you would not believe. And he's a drunk." MacFarlan complained, while I quietly ate my food, feeling slightly awkward. "Can't go anywhere near goblins these days 'cos he owes them so much money, they'd chop is bollocks off if they saw him."

When I returned my empty plate to the kitchen a little while later Andromeda explained that MacFarlan had competed with Bagman for the head of department post and lost out, and had taken to venting his bitter feelings to anyone who would listen. I talked to Andromeda for a while about her career as an opera singer. Before Nymphadora was born she and Ted had travelled quite extensively throughout Europe because of Andromeda's job. When Andromeda and Ted met, Andromeda was living in London with a group of her friends whom she described as 'the type who would listen to Velvet Underground, walk around barefoot, and spend all day brewing euphoria potions'. Apparently Ted was shy and a little geeky when Andromeda met him, her opposite in many ways; but Andromeda loved that about him – she loved that he was so different to her. When Ted and Andromeda got married Ted got a job with the Nimbus broom company, which had offices all over the world, so that he could travel with her.

I certainly enjoyed conversing with all these interesting people, Andromeda especially, but the whole time Tonks was always in my field of vision, and I couldn't help but glance at her every now and then. It seemed no-one was interesting enough to distract me from her.

When it was time for the band to play, Ted magically vanished the double doors that led to the balcony where the band had set up their instruments, and indeed the entire living room wall, so that the balcony and the living room became one continuous space. Then we gathered round the balcony like it was a stage and watched Tonks' school friends play a few songs. Their music was actually a lot better then I expected. I thought they would play the kind of discordant rock music that young witches and wizards listen to nowadays, but their songs were kind of folky and very catchy, not wholy unlike the sort of things the Weird Sisters played, but ever so slightly less pretentious. Tonks' Tom was the drummer, the lead singer and banjo player was tall with bleached blonde dreadlocks, the rest of the band were all tall and moody looking, but played very well. After a few songs the blonde lead singer announced with a grin:

"Okay, now our former band member, who gave up the glamourous life of a struggling musician to save the world," (there was a polite splattering of laughter) "is going to sing a few songs with us as a birthday treat for her mother, the lovely Andromeda."

Everyone cheered Andromeda, then Tonks who had made her way through the crowd towards the balcony that served as a stage. Tonks smiled bashfully at the gathering of her family and friends then picked up a guitar and slung the strap around her shoulder.

"Okay," she said into the microphone as she took the place of the lead singer, "now my mum is the real singer here, I'm rubbish in comparison. But I'm going to do two songs with these guys, the first of which er, is sort of a birthday present because er, it's about a glamourous older woman...so..."

There was another collective chuckle and a slightly scolding but altogether amused look from Andromeda. Then Tonks began to play.

So what did you guys think? What did you think of Tonks' synesthesia-like ability to feel things when she morphs/looks at people? It's quite a complicated idea, I really hope I conveyed it clearly. Also, I actually quite love Tonks now...she is so multitalented. What do you think? Also, what do you think she's thinking when she talks to Lupin? Lupin guesses, but he doesn't always get it right... I can't wait for them to get it on already...but alas there is a lot of stuff to happen between now and then...(one more thing: anyone spot Hestia Jones?) Okay...I'll shut up now...


	42. More Than An Infatuation

Sorry if I got some of the french wrong. (All characters belong to JKR)

Chapter 42

I felt completely trapped. I could no longer hope that this infatuation would just go away. She was too fantastic. As I had suspected, Tonks was a tremendous singer. Her voice was gentle and relaxing, not unlike Eva Cassidy, but with a jazzy Peggy Lee like strength. She was also a very accomplished guitar player. I couldn't stop my foot tapping as I listened to the energetic and amusing song she had written about Andromeda. The song made references to Andromeda's fondness for tidiness and having things done her way, her bizarre taste in given names, and how she seemed to get far more male attention than Tonks thought fair. But the chorus was quite affectionate:

_When I need you you're always there_

_You keep me safe from the Devil's snare_

_I love you more than words can wield the matter_

_I could not ask for better _

_My mother my friend_

_Andromeda...Andromeda...etc_

After she had finished Tonks lifted her wand, pointed it over everyone's heads and summoned a butterbeer so that she could make a toast to her mother.

"Okay, now I would like everyone to raise their glasses – or bottles – for my mum," she said, "who doesn't want me to say which birthday she's celebrating, but I'm sure you've guessed by the amount of pomp and circumstance, that it's a big one!" Everyone laughed and Andromeda rolled her eyes. "She's beautiful and funny and clever and only a little bit of a snob..." everyone laughed again "...and we all love her very much. To Andromeda!" Tonk held her bottle in the air, and everyone else did the same as we chorused "To Andromeda!"

Although Tonks said she would only to two songs, after the second (which she sang in french!) in response to her audience's cheers, she sang a third song. This song was a cover, but contrary to my expectations, it was a cover of a muggle song: Fleetwood Mac's Songbird. My seventeen year old self, who had fallen in love with the song when it was released, was dying with happiness as I watched her voice caress the lyrics that were so familiar to me.

When she had finished, she blushed at the applause and bit her nails as she thanked everyone. When she left the make-shift stage, she tripped on the join between the balcony's stones and the living room's carpet and disappeared from my line of sight for a few minutes. But she jumped up a few seconds later announcing that she was fine while everyone giggled at her clumsiness. Her mother captured her in a hug, while the other guests shouted out their praises. As the band started to play again, I wandered towards the kitchen for another drink.

Time passed and Tonks attention was monopolised by the other guests. I ached to talk to her again, but felt angry at my self about it. Every time our eyes accidentally met across the room, I felt guilty about the pleasant feeling this aroused in me. And every time she grinned at me, and with a gesture, indicated that she would rather be talking to me than whoever had trapped her in conversation, I felt a fool because she made me so happy. It was embarrassing that these dichotomous feelings, that are supposed to affect only adolescents, could still plague me. I'm sure Sirius would have found it tremendously amusing – until he found out my feelings were directed towards his young cousin that is, then he'd probably turn my genitals into vegetables.

Eventually, after the sun had set, she found me again. I had been loitering by the window of the kitchen where there was a tall object with a rug flung over it. It was either a hat stand or a bird cage and I had been trying to peek underneath to see which when Tonks caught me.

"Wotcher Remus." She said. I jumped a little and turned around, shoving my hands in my pockets. She raised an eyebrow at me and I grinned innocently. She eyed the rug covered object I had been interested in, but didn't say anything about it.

"I was afraid the party would end before I got a chance to talk to you again." She said instead, her cheeks turning pink. Her eyes were blue again, and I wondered what blue eyes were making her feel. I also wondered, because she was looking at me, whether she felt like the sun was shining on her. The band's trumpet played a short merry tune while Tonks and I looked at each other, trying and failing to read each other's minds.

"You sing very well." I said eventually, my voice a little hoarser than usual.

"Thanks. You didn't dance though." She accused and I laughed.

"Oh I don't dance. At least, not unless I've had a bit more to drink."

"I see. In that case..." Tonks took her wand from her pocket and looked towards the kitchen. She summoned two glasses and a bottle wine, but her spell was more vigorous than she intended and suddenly three glass objects were hurtling towards me. I didn't even have time to draw my wand. I held out my hands, caught the bottle with one and one of the glasses with the other, and dived for cover as the second glass smashed into the rug-covered object behind me. The shards fell to the floor and the mysterious object wobbled. Then the rug slipped off, revealing what was hidden underneath: a small green budgie in a golden cage. I looked to Tonks who had put her fingers in her ears.

"What-" I began, but my words were cut short by a deafening shrieking:

"A PARTY A PARTY A PARTY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

The band abruptly stopped playing, I desperately wished my hands had been free so that I could have covered my ears, and the entire room turned their faces towards the loudest budgie I had ever heard. A dragon's roar could not have covered the sound.

"OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD NYMPHADORA!" I heard Ted shout over the top of the excited budgie, which was jumping around in its cage apparently desperate to join the party.

"I WANT CAKE I WANT CAKE!"

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Tonks shouted back, her fingers still in her ears. Ted drew his wand and magically lifted the rug back over the cage, which immediately silenced the budgie. There was a collective sigh of relief.

"Sorry about that folks." Ted said to everyone, and within a few moments the band had started up again and Ted had slipped back into the crowd. With my ears still ringing I turned back to Tonks, who was magically repairing the glass she had broken.

"Who or what was that?" I asked her, laughter tickling the back of my throat. Tonks wrinkled her noise bashfully.

"That was Paul, my budgie." She explained. "When he was a baby he couldn't speak, so I dipped him in a voice-restoring potion that I had made. The potion was a bit strong. We tried everything to quiet Paul's voice. Muffling charms, a voice-stealing potion...but nothing worked. So he's stuck with a shriek that could be heard form Mars."

My laugh escaped, and Tonks grinned at its unusual sound.

"You don't say, I think he may have perforated one of my eardrums." I said.

"Oh Merlin, I should have warned you." Tonks said biting her lip.

"It's quite alright."

"Man you are so polite."

"Thank you. I think." I said with a smirk and Tonks laughed.

"What do you do when you, like, stub your toe and stuff?" Tonks asked me. "Do you just go 'Oh bother!'" She added putting on a comical upper class English accent.

"Er no, I swear terribly." I said and Tonks narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "I'm not actually English remember?"

Tonks frowned for a second then smiled.

"Oh yes, you are Irish. Strabane. I remember."

"Exactly, so I'm genetically predisposed to prolifically use profanities." I said. Tonks looked me in the eyes, her smile growing bigger by the second.

"I don't believe you." She said in her teasing velvety voice, and I laughed.

"Okay, you are right. I hardly ever swear." I admitted. Tonks smile didn't fade, but she moved her eyes back to the rug-covered bird cage.

"Anyway, he loves people and doesn't shut up if we have guests. So we put the rug over him so that he can't see. He's a bit dumb, I don't think he thinks people exist if he can't see them." I glanced at the rug and suddenly realised how Sirius and I could quieten the portrait of Mrs Black.

I handed the second glass to Tonks, and took my wand from my pocket so that I could vanish the cork. Then I poured Tonks and myself a glass. With no seats free, the kitchen table being occupied by Sturgis Podmore and his friends who had decided to play cards, Tonks and I sat on the floor underneath Paul and drank the bottle of wine while we talked. Even with the guilt and frustration of my immoral attraction, it was impossible not to enjoy her company. We talked for a long time about music, and Tonks' eclectic music taste. Like me she had a fondness for muggle music, but didn't tie herself down to any particular genre. So long as it had a good melody she liked it, regardless of whether it was Liszt's Liebestraum no. 3, Jimi Hendrix's Voodoo Child or Billie Holliday's You Don't Know What Love Is. She also told me that she quite enjoyed drawing, but unlike me she preferred drawing people to landscapes.

"I'm not that good at perspective you see." She told me. "It requires too much concentration."

"How do you have time to keep up all these hobbies, with your job?" I asked, noticing that she had shifted closer to me at some point during our conversation so that our knees were touching.

"Er I don't know." Tonks said with a shrug, and a slightly sad smile. "I don't go out that much, I suppose, so my evenings and weekends are usually very empty."

"That surprises me." I said gently.

"Really?" Tonks returned with one eyebrow raised. "I would have thought I've got 'loner' written all over me." I rubbed my right eyebrow and gazed at Tonks feeling completely perplexed.

"That's the last description I would ascribe to you." I said honestly. "You are so confident and witty. I would have thought you'd be insanely popular."

"Okay, I'm exaggerating a little. I do have a few friends. But most of them are from school and I don't get to see them very much these days. I don't get on with many of the people my age in my department. Most of them are men and...well you saw them..."

I remembered the boys that had teased Tonks after she had dropped an armful of folders at the Ministry.

"Mm, I remember they...weren't the most charming."

Tonks laughed at my choice of words. "They're wankers." She rephrased, and I smiled but didn't say anything.

"They are so sexist. They seem to think that being unfaithful is admirable, or at least something men cannot help. I mean, is that true? Can you not help it?"

I smiled as I considered Tonks' question.

"Young men find relationships intimidating. And I'm sure unfaithful behaviour is just...a manifestation of their insecurities." I said. "We get better as we get older, we mature a little bit. Though relationships are still intimidating, and some insecurities are hard to let go."

I clenched my teeth for a moment, realising that I had confessed more than I had wanted to. Tonk's expression was unreadable, as it often was, but she put one hand on her knee, the knee that was touching mine, so that she touched my leg with the tips of her fingers

"But you should know, not all men think being unfaithful is acceptable." I assured.

"Anyway, I don't have many friends in London." Tonks said. "Only Hestia...you know, with the dark hair. She lives in the same building as me. She's lovely...but has a weird fondness for cuddly toys. It's slightly freaky."

"What you mean?"

"Her house is just full of them. And some of them are magic as well so they move...it's very disconcerting sitting in her living room with a hundred little glass eyes staring at you."

"You are not fond of soft toys then?"

"I have one. A pink rabbit, called 'bunny'." I chuckled and Tonks added: "I was not an especially imaginative three year old. And I think that's more than enough."

"I have a toy owl somewhere...called, er, Athene. I was a very geeky three year old."

"Haha, that's so cute."

"Mm. I'm not quite sure where she is now, probably in the attic with the rest of my toys."

"Aw you keep Athene in attic? Doesn't she get lonely?"

"Well she has a toy broom, a beginners potions set, which I managed to break after just one use. Give me the most inflamable ingredients and I can make them explode. I'm _that_ inept at potion brewing."

"I bet you're not. I bet you're the kind of person who says he's rubbish at something but then turns out to be brilliant at it."

"No no, I really am terrible. We had to make a sleeping potion in my fourth year of Hogwarts and Professor Slughorn tested mine on a rabbit. Not only did my potion fail to put the rabbit to sleep it caused it to go into a frenzy and sneeze purple slime which stank of rotting garlic. The whole class was forced to evacuate and the dungeons were closed for a week while poor Mr Filch tried to clean the slime off the walls."

"Oh dear."

"Mm. I don't know what it is about potions that I find so difficult...Perhaps it is because I'm not very good at measuring things, or following a recipe..."

"Are you also not a very good cook then?"

"I'm actually not too bad at cooking, as long as the recipes aren't too complex. I have quite a good sense of smell you see, so I just use my nose to check if I've added too much or too little of something. You can't do that with potions -"

"No, most potions smell like Dragons dung, and quite a few would singe all your nose hairs."

"Well, exactly. Anyway, what was I going to tell you?"

"You were talking about your toys."

"Oh yes. Athene also has a train set and a toy truck called Typhon to keep her company."

"A truck? What's one of those?"

"It's a big muggle car used for carrying things."

"Oh yes I know what you mean. Why did you give it a name? And why Typhon?"

"Well I had a few toy cars, given to me by my muggle uncle, but being a wizard I didn't really have much of an interest in them, so I pretended they were magical beasts. Typhon was 'the father of all monsters' in Greek mythology, with a hundred dragons heads, giant wings and viper coils instead of legs. And, the truck was the biggest toy car I had so it was Typhon."

"Wow, you _were_ geeky." Tonks teased and I laughed.

"My father was a historian and he specialised in ancient Greek and Roman history. Most of my bedtime stories were Greek and Roman myths. My father's passion for classics is why I am called Remus."

"Ah yes, the brothers who were raised by wolves. Didn't Romulus kills Remus?"

"Yes he did. My parents did consider calling me Romulus instead, not wanting to name me after the loser, but Romulus Lupin didn't sound as nice apparently. They also considered calling me Aeneas after the hero of Troy. And if I were a girl I would have been called Diana."

"You're dad really did like classics."

"Yes. I do too. Particularly the myths."

"They are great stories. Lots of romance and violence."

"What more could you want from a story?"

Tonks and I drank wine while we told each other our favourite greek stories. Hers was the story of Andromeda, the princess of Ethiopia, whom her mother was named after. Princess Andromeda's mother Cassiopeia was told that they only way to stop the sea monster, that had been terrorising the kingdom, was to sacrifice her daughter. So Andromeda was tied to a rock and left to be devoured by the monster, but Perseus, the slayer of Medusa, saw Andromeda and rescued her. Then Perseus married Andromeda and they lived happily ever after.

Once the wine was finished, Tonks was whisked away from me again to help her father bring in Andromeda's birthday cake. We all sung happy birthday while the fairies showered Andromeda in confetti. Then, as another surprise, all of the lanterns that had been quietly hanging in the air suddenly exploded like small fireworks and filled the living room with stars. Glasses of champagne were handed round and guests danced under the stars while I listened to Sturgis Podmore tell be about the wager he had on Harry winning the Triwizard Tournament.

The band finished their set at about half eleven and by midnight people were starting to leave. With the alcohol in my system making me feel tired, I decided I would too, but wanted to use the bathroom before I left, so I made my way into the hallway to try and find it.

The hallway was quiet compared to the living room which allowed me to appreciate the dammage that Budgie had done to my eardrums, as in the quiet the ringing in my ears was damn impossible to ignore. I was just reaching the staircase when I heard two female voices speaking french coming from somewhere above me. I recognised one of the voices as Tonks' and smiled at how pleasant her voice was when it was speaking french. Judging by the youthfulness of the second voice I guessed it was Fleur, and I suspected they were sitting on the stairs some way above me, out of my sight. I turned to make my way back towards the living room so that I wouldn't be eavesdropping but stopped abruptly when I heard my name.

"Qui Remus? Non." Tonks said. "Pourquoi?" I told myself that it was rude to listen in to their conversation, and knew that I should move, but my feet seemed to be glued to the floor.

"Il garde te regarde." Fleur said, which I think meant he keeps looking at you. I winced worrying that my feelings had been exposed.

"C'est vrai?" said Tonks, she sounded surprised.

"Oui." Fleur said with amusement and interest in her voice. Then Tonks said something that my limited french did not allow me to translate. The only words I picked out were 'un peu compliqees'. I struggled to hypothesise what Tonks meant by 'a little complicated'. Things were complicated between us from my point of view certainly, but I had no idea that they would be complicated from her point of view.

"Compliqué? Comment? Qui les sons qui intéressent." Fleur then said and I silently expressed my agreement.

"Ce n'était rien romantique si cela est que tu pense." Tonks said slyly. It was nothing romantic. I leant against the wall in the hallway and bit my lip. What wasn't romantic? Her behaviour towards me? Well, I never thought that it was...Although, I suppose at times it sometimes seems like...but surely I was just imagining that...

"Je suis pas sûr que je te crois." Fleur said, which I didn't understand.

"Il n'était pas..." Tonks insisted, but then she said, "bien que..." which meant 'although'. There was an although. Something wasn't romantic, although...Although what?

"Bien que?" Fleur questioned.

"Nous avons eu...un moment." Tonks admitted sounding embarrassed. I frowned. We had a moment? When? My heart pounded. When she had told me that they way I looked felt like the sun kissing her? When she had told me the last time we had lunch, that she never felt during her other dates the urge to 'make love with them right there'? Suddenly I remembered when she had found me exhausted and wounded in the forrest in Germany. I remembered the way she had looked at me after she had helped me onto the stretcher and bandaged my injuries, when she told me she wasn't afraid of me. The way she had looked at my mouth.

"As-tu envie lui?" Fleur asked and my breath stopped. Fleur had asked Tonks if she wanted me. The big question.

"Non." Said Tonks. "Il est trop vieux pour moi." He is too old for me. I couldn't understand why I felt such stinging in my chest. I _was_ too old for her. Not only that, I was broken and unsuccessful. Not even human. What had I expected her to say?

I hastily took my wounded ego back to the living room and with the ringing in my ears acting as a melancholy soundtrack, I said goodbye to Andromeda and Ted and the few other guests that remained. It is generally considered impolite to disapparate straight from someone's living room unless you know them well or if it's an emergency, so Ted and Andromeda both insisted that they walk me back into the hallway and towards the front door.

"Thank you so much for coming Remus." Andromeda said.

"Yes, hope to see you again soon." Ted added. I opened my mouth to offer some sort of polite closing remark when an extremely attractive young girl with long white-blond hair jumped down from the staircase right into my path. Her blue eyes became completely circular and her cheeks turned pink as she recognised me. Then she let out one loud 'ha' of laughter. Fleur threw her hands over her mouth to stop any more giggles escaping her, then skipped off towards the living room. I quietly sighed and lifted my hand to rub my eyebrow, but stopped as Tonks had appeared.

"Oh, are you off?" She asked with the same sort of nonchalance that she had used when she had spoken to Tom earlier. I felt a great urge to bang my head against the wall.

"Yes. It was lovely to see you again Tonks." I said, letting my heart open for a moment. Tonks bit her lip, and for a very very brief second seemed quite sad. But then she was smiling.

"I'll see you soon I'm sure." She said. She stood on her tiptoes and put her hands on my shoulders to balance herself, then kissed my cheek. I hated how pleasant her lips felt against my skin. She let me go and I studied her heart shaped face and the beautiful hair she said felt like dust. She seemed to feel a little awkward in my gaze.

She bit her lip then said, "Goodbye Remus," before striding past me back towards the living room. I turned and watched her leave, and noticed Andromeda's curious glace. I swallowed and tried to think of something to say but couldn't. Ted broke the silence by stepping forward towards the front door.

"Well, until next time..." He said opening the door.

When I arrived back at Grimmauld place I wondered to the kitchen (after emptying my now rather full bladder) taking the trouble to disillusion myself so that Mrs Black wouldn't notice me. Once in the kitchen I lit the oil lamps with a swish of my wand, noted the tower of dirty washing in the sink at the far end of the kitchen, and groaned.

"Accio firewhisky..." I said. A cupboard of one of the dark oak cabinets swung open and a bottle of firewhisky jumped fout then slid along the rough oak table. I caught it seconds before it slipped off the other end then summoned a glass. "And some chocolate." I added and a bar of honeydukes floated off the top of one of the cabinets and swooped down to the table next to the whisky. I interchanged sips of whisky with bites of chocolate, which was as disgusting as it sounds, but I was sufficiently tired not to care.

"Feck Lupin. It's not as if you were going to do anything anyway." I told myself. "Just man up and get over it." I finished my whiskey and left the bottle where it was next to the half eaten bar of chocolate then went up to Regulus' room, stumbling slightly on the stairs. Regulus' room was not as large as Sirius', nor as welcoming. It was decorated with similar silk wallpaper, but where Sirius had hidden a large portion of his wallpaper with posters and Gryffindor banners, Regulus left his relatively uncovered. There were a few framed family photographs, and one or two of Regulus' friends, a magical version of John Collier's Lilith (which I thought was fitting for a man who had been tempted by dark magic) and a Slytherin Banner above the fireplace. There was also a disturbing collection of articles about Voldemort pinned to the notice board above Regulus' bed, and his bookshelf was full of books on dark magic.

Regulus' bed was a grand four poster, like Sirius', with ornately carved head and foot boards. It also had rather handsome silk drapes embroidered with magically moving scenes of witches and wizards performing magic, duelling with each other and occasionally trying to seduce each other, which I found quite amusing. I sat down on the bed and undressed, throwing my clothes over the footboard. For a while, I wondered what Regulus would think of me using his room, but my thoughts were soon dragged back to Nymphadora. I drifted into an uneasy sleep thinking about her.


	43. Out, Damned Spot

Chapter 43 (with corrections, thanks HollytheKitty)

Note: Just to warn you, though it's probably not necessary, Lupin has a slightly creepy dream in this chapter, that also is a bit sexy – though that's not the creepy part. Oh and I need to give credit to JKR: she came up with the 'Bludger Backbeat', 'Kenmare Kestrels' and 'Darren O'Here', and Kappas and Chizpurfle. I came up with deception potions :)

That night I dreamt I was in Germany again. I was once again in the forrest, tall thin trees with burning orange leaves surrounding me. I was lying on a stretcher with a white bandage wrapped around my waist. As I looked at it I could see blood start to seep through from the stab wound in my abdomen. I felt a stinging sort of ache at the site of the injury, but my pain was not nearly so acute as it had been in real life. Nymphadora was there, her hair it's natural brown colour and her eyes a similar dusty brown. She had her arms around me, helping to support me as her levitating charm pulled my chest upwards.

"Are you afraid of me?" I asked in a whisper, so anxious to know the answer, so worried that she would be. Tonks looked at me with a soft expression. Her face was so close to mine. I could see every eyelash, and the tiny red marks on her bottom lip where she had bitten it.

"No." She replied. Her eyes moved over my face coming to rest at my mouth for a few moments. She licked her bottom lip. Suddenly all my pain vanished. My consciousness was instead deluged with the contours of her face, the colour of her lips the sound and sight of her breathing. I leaned up slightly, slid one hand into her hair and kissed her.

As dream-kisses go this one was intense, almost suffocating in its vividness. I sat up on the stretcher so that I could use both hands to pull her towards me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pressed herself against me. The rest of the world vanished, leaving only us together. The next moment we were in my bed in the flat Sirius and I had shared. We were already undressed, and the old bed creaked as I manoeuvred myself on top of her, all the while kissing her and enjoying the feeling of her bare skin against mine. Running my hands over her skin felt like skimming my hands over water. I wondered if I felt like sunlight. I slid one hand along the inside of her thigh, silently telling her that I was dying to make love.

"Go on." She whispered, and I smiled into her lips. But then she vanished. And instead I was staring at the face of a vampire, his mouth gaping open revealing is long blood stained fangs. I was in my wolf's body in the cold German forrest with vampires all around me. I jolted in my sleep and tried to wake up, but I couldn't. A vampire leapt at me. It stabbed me in the shoulder and I felt a tearing pain and warm wetness spread across my back. I pulled the vampire off me with my claws and flung him into a tree. But there were so many of them. I was surrounded. They attacked all at once. They cut me and beat me and stabbed me. They would kill me! I frantically fought back. I snatched them between my jaws. Hurled them to the ground. I slit open their throats. Tore apart their skin. Their bodies opened so easily revealing so much red inside. Wet and everywhere.

I woke screaming. And sat up in my bed, my head spinning. I felt drenched and looked down at my bare chest and saw my skin shining. The limited red light from the dying fire in my room reflected off my skin, and I thought I was covered in blood. I gasped and ran into the bathroom. I lit the oil lamps with wandless magic and stared at myself in the mirror. I saw that there was no blood on me, just sweat. I leant over the sink feeling like I was going to be sick. I could not get the images of those vampires that I had killed out of my mind. I couldn't stop seeing my own claws and teeth ripping them to pieces. I put both my hands over my face and moaned into them.

The bathroom on the top floor of Grimauld place was en suite to both Sirius and Regulus' rooms, and while I stood over the sink, I heard the door that lead to Sirius' bedroom open. I turned to see him standing in the doorway his face looking like that of a ghost.

"What happened? Are you alright?" He demanded anxiously, his voice bearing no traces of the exhaustion that was all over his face.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream." I said trying and failing to sound calm.

"What happened in the dream?" Sirius asked quietly. I looked back towards the mirror at my pale troubled face, and watched tears escape my glassy yellow eyes.

"I – I dreamt about the vampires in Germany." I admitted quietly. "What I did to them." At that I couldn't suppress a wave of tears. I violently tried to wipe them off my face and willed myself to hold it in, as I didn't want Sirius to see this. But the harder I tried to fight it the more difficult it became. One thought was plaguing me, was ricochetting around my head: I am a monster. I am a monster I am a monster.

"I am a monster."

"You're not." Sirius said forcefully and I looked at his reflection in the mirror. I didn't realise I had spoken out loud.

"Yes I am." I told his reflection. I shut my eyes but tears still forced their way out. I raised one shaking hand to my face so I could lean my forehead against it. I couldn't see Sirius any longer, but I knew he was probably standing in the doorway feeling awkward as he watched a grown man become so upset about a bad dream. I felt pathetic and embarrassed at the same time as I felt an unfathomable self-hatred. Suddenly I felt Sirius' hand on my shoulder. I opened my wet eyes and looked at him.

"It was kill or be killed Moony. You had no choice."

"I should have died. I should have let them kill me." I said not looking at him.

"No." Sirius said firmly. "I would have done the same thing if it were me. When faced with death, any man would do the same."

"That doesn't make it right."

"Maybe not. But it certainly makes it forgivable." Sirius had spoken very forcefully and it would have seemed petulant for me to argue with him so I said nothing. Instead I looked at my hands. I scrutinised my thin fingers, the fine fair hairs on backs of them and my clean neatly clipped nails. They looked nothing like the huge clawed paws that had killed the vampires. But even though my human hands bore no resemblance to their wolfish counterparts, they inherited their guilt.

"Let's get some tea." Sirius then said, his voice shocking against the quiet. I let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh at the idea that my shame at committing brutal murder could be absolved with a cup of tea. Sirius just hit my back and pointed to the door.

"Let - let me get my dressing gown first, I – it's cold." I said feeling stupid. Sirius rolled his eyes but said okay. I went back to my room, pulled on my dressing gown and shoved my wand into it's pocket. I found my pocket watch in my jacket, that I had slung over the end of the bed, and checked the time. Five thirty am. I put the watch in my pocket with my wand before meeting Sirius in the hallway. Sirius had pulled a blue sweater over his pyjamas and was twiddling his wand in his fingers while he waited for me.

"You know, it's five thirty," I told him, "wouldn't you rather go back to sleep?"

"Nah," Sirius said casually. "I sleep terribly in that room, I'd just end up lying in my bed getting board until I have to get up again. Might as well just get up now."

I put my hands in my dressing gown pockets.

"Er," said Sirius, "do you think we should apparate to the kitchen? Then Mother Dearest wont notice us."

"Oh I had an idea about that." I said, "but yes; let's apparate."

Seconds later, we were both in the kitchen. Sirius lit the lamps by magic then flicked his wand at the ancient kettle so that it jumped underneath the tap of the kitchen sink, which turned on automatically and filled the kettle with water. Sirius waved his wand again and the kettle hopped out of the sink and onto the stove where it began to heat up. Sirius then sat down at the kitchen table and magically summoned a teapot some tea, some milk and two mugs. The desired objects flew out of their regular stations and arranged themselves neatly in front of Sirius.

"I love magic." He mumbled to himself. I quietly sat down opposite him while Sirius enchanted the teapot to warm up in preparation for the tea. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I think Sirius felt that he should talk to me about my disturbing nightmares but didn't really know how to. In the end I broke the silence by changing the topic.

"I thought we could cover her with some thick curtains." I then said. Sirius looked up at me and frowned for a few seconds, before he realised what I was talking about.

"Oh mother. Thick curtains? To muffle her?"

"Partly. But she seems to scream only when she sees someone in the hall, so if we prevent her from seeing anything we might stop her screaming."

"Ah I see. Yes that's a good idea. Why didn't you think of it sooner?"

I sighed and Sirius grinned."What was the party like?" He then asked me.

"I was quite good." I said leaning back in my chair. "Sturgis Podmore was there."

"Oh yes," Sirius grinned, "he owes me money. Who else was there?"

"Er, Arther and Molly Weasley, and Charlie. The Diggorys, Hamish McFarlan-"

"Really? The Montrose Magpies beater?"

"Yes. He works for the Magical Games and Sports department now. He wanted Ludo Bagman's job, and spent at least half an hour moaning to me about it."

"He was a bloody good beater you know." Sirius said smiling. I was pleased he was in a good mood this morning, the sour look on his face yesterday had got me worried that I was have to deal with his Mr Hyde today. "He was an expert at the Bludger Backbeat, you know when you hit the bludger behind you. James and I snuck out of Hogwarts one easter and saw the Magpies play against the Kenmare Kestrels. McFarlan swiped a bludger back at Darren O'Here, it hit him so hard he fell off his broom and ruptured his spleen."

Sirius' grin stretched from ear to ear and his chair wobbled as he gesticulated.

"Only Quidditch can get grown men excited about people sustaining life-threatening injuries." I commented and Sirius rolled his eyes at me.

"He was fine." Sirius said with a causal wave of his hand. "It was such a good game. There was a party afterwards..."

"Yes I know, you told me about it. You made out with one of the Kestrel's chasers."

"Yeah I did." Sirius laughed banging on hand on the table. "Julia Wilde. She was foxy, even with mud on her face. If I had been a little bit older..."

"Of course Sirius." I humoured. The kettle started whistling so Sirius got up to pour hot water into the teapot by hand. The Black family kettle was not the most cooperative of appliances: it had a tendency to spew water at Sirius and I when we tried to levitate it – though only when the water inside it was boiling; not only was it uncooperative, it was calculating – so it was safer to handle it by hand when it had hot water inside it.

"Who else was there?"

"Amelia Bones was there. And Fleur Delacour, you know the triwizard champion for Beauxbatons, and her family." I told Sirius. "Did you know that Andromeda and Ted were friends with them?"

"No." Sirius said replacing the kettle to it's resting place next to the stove. "I didn't even know who Fleur Delacroix was until five seconds ago."

"Did Harry not tell you who he was competing against? And it's Dela_cour_, 'of the court', not 'of the cross'."

"Alright! And I think he did but I forgot. I'm more concerned about him surviving the tournament than who he's competing against." Sirius argued pouring the tea. "Did you talk to the Delacours much?"

"No not really." I said as I took my tea and added some milk.

"Did you talk to _anyone_?" Sirius added with an accusing glare.

"What? Of course I did." I insisted in my defence.

"Just checking. I know you moony. You're the sort of person who goes to a party and spends the whole time examining the host's bookshelf rather than talking to anyone."

I blushed slightly because I had spent at least twenty minutes doing just that.

"I spoke to Amelia Bones-"

"Did she say anything about Bertha Jorkins?"

"No. But she did tell me that lots of the aurors in her department are trying to blame you for what happened at the Quidditch world cup."

Sirius groaned, "really? Morgana...this wont end until I'm dead, will it? They will always be blaming things on me. I'll become every Death Eaters scapegoat."

"Amelia worried that that might happen. She was concerned that aurors will simply name you as a suspect, without any evidence, because that is less frightening than finding out that actually 'Sirius Black' is not the only person out there capable of doing terrible things."

Sirius drank some tea while he considered what I had said. I struggled to read his expression. He was frowning but didn't look as angry as I expected him to look. I suppose he had had plenty of time to get used to what it felt like to be thought guilty of a crime you didn't commit.

In an effort to empathise with Sirius, I tried to think of something similar that had happened to me. All I could think of was the many occasions where people shout abuse at me, exclude me, and acuse me of engaging in barbaric practices because of what I am. But as I thought of this, I realised how different that was to Sirius' situation. What Sirius had been accused of was not validated by the evidence. Aside from the fact that Sirius was found at the seen of the crime, there was no reason to think that he had killed those people years ago; and aside from the fact that most thought Sirius was James and Lily's secret keeper, there was no reason to think that he was the one that betrayed them. Whilst to someone who didn't know Sirius, those two facts may have been enough to question Sirius' innocence, anyone who really knew Sirius should not have seriously doubted him, not without more evidence. _I_ should not have doubted him. But with me...there _were_ real reasons to shout abuse at me, there were real reasons to exclude me...The characterisation of a werewolf as a brutal killer is not an exaggeration.

"I want to clear my name." Sirius said eventually, I said nothing. "I don't want to have to live in this ghastly place in hiding for the rest of my life."

"How would you prove your innocence?" I asked. "You have been thought guilty by so many for so long, you would need something very persuasive."

"We could catch Peter. Force him to confess." Sirius suggested, and I sighed.

"Yes, but if anyone saw you Padfoot, they'd kill you on sight, or try to anyway...It is too dangerous for you and I to engage in a manhunt."

"Not if we were careful." Sirius said, a cunning look in his eyes, "You said Sturgis was at the party right? And are you still in touch with Mundungus Fletcher?"

"Er, sort of."

"Those two always had their fingers in some slightly dodgy pies. They surely hear things from the shady characters they deal with. You could ask them what they know."

"I can't ask them I've they've seen Peter: they think he's dead. They'd think I've gone mad." I protested.

"No, but you could ask them if they've heard any Death Eater movement. Or anything suspicious..."

I opened my mouth to protest but Sirius cut me off.

"Come on Moony. You want to catch him too. And we might find out more about what Voldemort is planning, which would help Harry. Surely you want to do what you can to protect Harry?" Sirius said his eyebrows low over his eyes. I couldn't say no to that. And I couldn't really say no to helping Sirius clear his name either. I wanted him to be free almost as much as he did.

"Alright. I'll find out what I can." I said. Then I took my tea and drank half of it in one go. Sirius was grinning, just like he did when he and James concocted a plan for overthrowing a Death Eater camp. He finished his tea and scratched the stubble on his jaw.

"How was Andromeda?" Sirius asked, obviously still thinking about what he could do if he cleared his name.

"She was well." I replied. "I didn't know she had been an opera singer."

"Oh yes, a very good one." Sirius said. I chewed my lip for a moments, remembering the memory I had seen in the Black house a few weeks ago, of Orion forcing Andromeda to kiss him. I had not really thought about it at the party, as Andromeda had seemed so bright and happy that it was difficult to imagine she had been the same young girl harassed, and possibly abused, by her uncle. It felt wrong that I knew about this event in Andromeda's past, that I knew this secret of hers.

"What about Nymphadora? How was she?" Sirius asked. My thoughts about Andromeda faded and I felt a stinging in my chest as Sirius said Nymphadora's name.

"Also very well." I said neutrally. "She sang with the band."

"Oh really? Fantastic." Sirius smiled.

"She was very good." I added before finishing my tea.

"Do you have to work today?" Sirius asked.

"Well I thought I'd do a little bit. I've been contracted to research techniques for transfiguring large objects by an architect who wants to improve magical building methods, and I found an excellent article about it in a transfiguration journal, so I thought I'd see what else that researcher had done."

"Sounds riveting Moony." Sirius said sarcastically and I sighed. "I mean do you have to go in to the library?"

"No."

"Good. Because I was thinking about tackling the middle floor bathroom today. I think there is a Kapa living in the toilet."

"A Kapa? Surely not. They live in Japan."

"Well I sent Kreacher in there to clean it so that the warty little sod would leave me alone, and he came out with scratches all over him, so I went in to have a look and I definitely saw a scaley monkey face glaring at me from the corner of the room." Sirius said.

"Alright I'll have a look after breakfast."

As it turns out, it was a Kapa that had taken residence in the middle floor bathroom. When Sirius and I had gone in to look for it, it had jumped out of the shadows and attacked Sirius, successfully managing to knock him to the ground and sink its fangs into his leg. Kapa's are similar in size and shape to Macaque monkeys, but where monkeys have fur Kapa's have blue-green scales. Kapas also have a large dent in their head which contains a reservoir of stagnant smelly water, which is the source of the Kapa's power. They are vicious and incredibly fast moving, so the only way to beat them is to trick them into bowing so that the water pours out of the reservoir in their head and they loose their power.

I batted away the monkey-like creature from Sirius with repelling charms as stunning spells are ineffective against Kapas. And while Sirius spewed profanities at the creature, I conjured a snake. Like most animals, Kapas feared snakes, so a hissing spitting cobra would distract the Kapa enough to prevent it attacking us again. The Kapa jumped onto the toilet seat as my magical snake landed on the floor a few feet away from it. I groaned as I needed the Kapa to be on the ground for my plan to work. I pointed my wand at the snake and enchanted it to slither nearer the toilet. The snake hissed at the Kapa which fearfully swiped its claw-like fingers at it and gave a high pitched scream. I made the snake lunge at the Kapa, and as I hoped, the Kapa jumped off the toilet and scuttled towards the sink on the left wall. The Kapa stopped and stared at the snake with its large shiny black eyes. I waited a few seconds then sent the snake towards the Kapa. The Kapa screamed again, and I could see it was about to put to use its phenomenal speed and run away, but luckily for me, before it did I managed to get the snake to slither quickly between the Kapa's legs. The Kapa looked down then bent over to follow the snake with its eyes. As it bent over the water in its head poured out on the ground.

I smiled in triumph and swished my wand so that the snake disappeared while the poor little Kapa fainted. I pocketed my wand and walked towards the small blueish creature.

"What shall we do with it?" Sirius said, having calmed down now that he had magically healed his wounded leg.

"I'll send it to the Centre for Magical Creatures in Southhampton." I said as I picked up the unconscious creature. It was about the size of a one year old human child so it was only a young Kapa. Although they were a little bit slimy, and had a tendency to strangle people to death, I actually thought Kapas were quite cute. "I wonder how it got here?"

"Well Kappa's hatch from eggs don't they? Like platypuses. Maybe my mother or Regulus ordered some frozen Kapa eggs and they just defrosted and hatched." Sirius suggested.

"Kapa eggs are only used for deception potions," I said, "you know, to help resist Veriteserum and legilimency."

Deception potions were darkly magical potions. Aside from the foetus of a Kappa other ingredients included a pint of a virgin's blood and part of the soul of the person who intends to use the potion. This last ingredient is why it was very uncommon to hear of anyone brewing a deception potion. The part of the brewers soul that they have to sacrifice is that part that allows them to feel loved, to feel wanted and cared for. Without this part, the person can never feel the happiness that comes from having friends or a caring family. Most people would not be willing to make such a sacrifice. Only someone who has no hope of ever being loved anyway, or who cannot see the value of such a feeling, perhaps because they have never experienced it, might sacrifice it; and such people are few and far between.

"Well it would make sense for my brother to want a potion that would help him lie doesn't it? He would have had to hide the fact that he was a Death Eater status from aurors and hit wizards etc." Argued Sirius, with a slight bitterness in his voice.

"I suppose." I said, though I wasn't convinced. Surely while Regulus was a Death Eater he would have spent most of his time with other Death Eaters, only coming into contact with aurors during a battle where he wouldn't be lying to them, he'd be trying to kill them. Brewing a deception potion to lie to aurors didn't seem worth it. Who had Regulus wanted to lie to badly enough to make a deception potion?

"Hey look at this." Sirius suddenly said distracting me from my thoughts. Sirius was pointing in the bath so I peered into the dirty freestanding tub. The inside of the bath was lined with hundreds of tiny little crab-like creatures which seemed to be sucking on the bath's walls.

"Looks like a chizpurfle infestation." I commented. Chizpurfle were parasites that fed of magic; usually they lived in the fur of magical creatures as fleas do, or sometimes they attached themselves to wands and other magical devices, so finding them in a bath was a little unusual.

"Someone must have been brewing a potion in the bath." Sirius said. "And they are feeding off the remains of it."

"Well that would make sense if it were a deception potion, because you have to bathe in it don't you? Rather than drink it." I said.

"Oh yes." Sirius said with a disgusted look on his face.

"We've still got some of the bundimun secretions downstairs, that should kill those things." I added pointing to the parasites.

"I'm not cleaning the bath." Sirius protested. "I'll get Kreacher to do it."


	44. More Sinned Against Than Sinning

Chapter 44

(Sorry this update has taken a while, I've had writer's block. Also I think it's a bit crap. My life is a bit empty and depressing at the moment I think and it's having a detrimental effect on the story. Sorry folks :( Also Libatius Borage belongs to JKR, he's the author of 'Advanced Potion Making', and Asclepius = greek God of medicine. And just to warn you, the language in this chapter is a bit harsher than usual.)

Over the next week I made an effort not to dream about Nymphadora Tonks, and I had little time to daydream about her, which actually was a blessing, seeing as my dreams about her were not as pleasant since I had heard from her own lips that she had no romantic feelings for me. On the 7th of February I received a new distraction in the form of a letter from the potion brewing company, Asclepius Potions, that I ordered wolfsbane from. I was expecting to receive a crate full of wolfsbane that day, so I wasn't feeling optimistic when the owl brought a letter instead.

_ Dear Mr Lupin, _it had said.

_I regret to inform you that we are no longer able to provide you with Wolfsbane potion. This is due to the tragic death of Libatius Borage_ _our only potion brewer qualified to make Wolfsbane. Inclosed is a refund for the remaining four months that you paid for. _

_ With apologies, _

_ Miranda Healy. _

I frowned as I read the letter at my kitchen table in Ireland. Borage was not only the only potion brewer working for Asclepius Potions able to makes wolfsbane, he was the only comercial potion brewer _in the country _able to make wolfsbane. So if I wanted to order more, I would have to order it from abroad, which would cost me a fortune, and unless I gave up eating or sold my house, I wouldn't be able to afford it. The full moon was a week away and I only had three days of wolfsbane left, which meant that all the wolfsbane I had taken so far this month would probably be ineffective. The idea of facing a complete transformation felt like lead being poured down my throat. I desperately didn't want to have to surrender control of my body to a monster. I dreaded the moment were control slipped away from me. Anything could happen during the night: I could escape and bite someone and pass on this curse, worse, I could kill someone, or if my precautions work and I don't escape, I could still kill myself. Without wolfsbane I could have no influence on what occurred during the night, I could only hope that I would wake up again at sunrise, my hands free of blood.

I put the letter down picked up my wand that had been resting idly next to my cup of coffee and summoned today's newspaper. I quickly flicked through it and sure enough on the third page was the headline 'Libatius Borage killed by stroke'. It was not common for witches and wizards to die from strokes. There is a simple first aid spell that freezes the progress stroke until medical help can be obtained and whatever imbalance that caused the stroke is corrected. Of course, if you do not recognise the symtoms of a stroke early enough, as was the case with my mother, no spell can help you. But an educated wizard like Libatius Borage would surely have been able to recognise the symptoms. The paper reported that the authorities were not treating the case as suspicious, but I couldn't help but think it odd.

I found out a week later that I wasn't alone in this view. As Sirius had suggested, I had sought out Sturgis Podmore to see what rumours were floating around the underground communities he frequented. I arranged to meet him one evening in The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade where Strugis lived. The fireplace in The Three Broomsticks is rather old fashioned and is not connected to the floo network, so I had to floo to the fireplace in the Hogsmeade Station waiting room, and walk from there. I had no objection to this however, as Hogsmeade in the winter is a beautiful place. The snow was still thick and glistening on the enchanting little cottages. Most of the shops were shut, but the restaurants and pubs were open and the warm glow of the candles that adorned their windows spilled out into the street. And through the windows I could see witches and wizards chatting and laughing as they drank butterbeer.

However my enjoyment of Hogsmeade at night was shattered by a sudden cry.

"Go home monster!" Someone had yelled. I turned to see who had shouted and saw a young man looking back at me with a smirk and a glare on his face. He had the hood of his cloak over his head, perhaps to hide his identity, but I still recognised him as one of the aurors that had teased Tonks when I met her in the Ministry the day of my appeal. I glared back at him, then turned to carry on walking.

Apparently this displeased the obnoxious auror as he shot a curse at my back. The curse acted like an invisible rope being flung around my ankles, tying them together then pulling them backwards. I fell forward, hitting my knees painfully against the frozen ground. During the fall I had reached for my wand and I pointed it towards the auror that had attacked me, but I didn't fight back. I couldn't; he would arrest me, and no-one would believe that an auror attacked first.

"We'll get you. Your kind always slip up, and we'll be there when you do." The auror jeered, while his three friends, all with hoods concealing their faces, emitted low laughs. I said nothing to the auror's threat, but I made sure that he could see my angry wolfish yellow eyes. The auror knew better than to attack me again, and after one of his friends tugged on his cloak, they walked off. I lifted the curse on my ankles, then stood up. This sort of thing had happened to me many times in the past. In fact just tripping me up was quite humane compared to other curses that had been thrown at me. But I still could not help but feel angry about it.

The wolf too was furious. _How dare he!_ It howled. I ignored the wolf, as I always do, and swallowed my anger. Before I could stop myself, I thought about how Tonks would react if I told her about what had happened.

"The little shit!" I imagined her saying. "I told you they were all wankers. I'm so going to put Flobberworm puke in his coffee."

The daydream amused me enough to forget my humiliation, but I felt a stab of regret that I couldn't really tell her what had happened. I brushed the snow off my robes and carried on to the Three Broomsticks.

A short while later and I was sitting across from Surgis Podmore drinking mulled wine.

"So what have you being doing since the end of the war?" I had asked, while he twirled his fingers in his moustache. Sturgis was a few years older than me, six or seven I'd say, but probably better looking. He was about my height, which was tall, wore stylish robes with velvet trims and bronze buckles, and had a rather impressive moustache with two neat curls that Sturgis was forever winding his fingers around.

"Bit of this..." Sturgis said gesturing with his right hand so that sparkling smoke billowed out of it, "bit of that..." he added gesturing with his left hand so green stars jumped from it.

"Your self?" He asked.

"Same." I said with a grin.

"Surely not. You are a receptacle man. I heard you were working in the Bowman Wright library."

"I am. How did you know?"

"Ah, word gets around." Sturgis said. "You have always been the source of much hearsay."

"I have?"

"Of course. You are one of very few, er-" Sturgis suddenly stopped having hit the W-word. He nervously glanced to his left and right. I gave him an understanding look and a nod so that he didn't have to say it.

"Yes...who er, has led a decent life."

"Tried to, at least."

"Most of the greatest men only achieve moderate success. Anyway, what I'm trying to say it, you're determination not to let your affliction hold you back causes...controversy. Many don't like it. They don't like the idea of...someone like you living among them, being allowed to do all the things that they do." Sturgis explained, and I shrugged and drank some whiskey. "Some find it inspiring and...admirable." Sturgis added in an attempt not to seem too negative.

"Either way, people talk about you." Sturgis finished.

"I see." I acknowledged not really sure how I should react to that news. Eventually I managed to get some more interesting information out of Sturgis, which concerned Libatius Borage. Apparently although the papers had reported that his death was nothing out of the ordinary, many, especially those who knew him, disagreed. For one thing Borgage had been perfectly healthy, and for another he had disappeared for two days before he was found unconscious outside his house by a passing muggle.

"It's being kept very quiet, but the fact that Borage went missing is, well, odd. He wasn't the type of fellow to go off for a few days without telling anyone."

"Do you think he was kidnapped?"

"I don't know. If he was, by whom? It doesn't really make any sense. He wasn't married, didn't have any kids, wasn't particularly rich...Why would someone want to kidnap him?"

"Well the only reason I can think of is for his potions knowledge. He was one of the best in the country."

"That's an interesting theory. But who knows? It still might be as innocent as the papers say."

"Yes, you're right."

"Why are you interested in this anyway?"

"I'm actually looking for someone. A Death Eater."

"A Death Eater?" Sturgis repeated with a crease forming between his eyebrows, and a nervous look in his eyes.

"Yes. But I haven't the first clue where to look for him. So I just wanted to know if you'd heard anything suspicious that might give me, er, inspiration." I told Sturgis with an air of hopelessness and a small shrug.

"Which Death Eater?"

"I can't really say." Sturgis sipped his whiskey and thought for a moment, but didn't press me further.

"Well if you want to know about Death Eaters, you should find Dung, you know Mundungus Fletcher." Sturgis advised me. "He's a slimy little bastard, but he hears things, and he's on our side – I think. He might know more that I."

The next day was the day before the full moon, and I had gone over to Grimmauld place primarily to relay what Sturgis had told me to Sirius, but also to check on the mad marauder. When I arrived it was tipping it down with rain so I spent a few minutes in the hallway shaking out my cloak. Then I slinked past Mrs Black, grinning the whole time as since we had covered her with a pair of thick curtains she had become oblivious to anyone walking in the hallway (unless we were particularly loud) and as a result had stopped screaming.

"Sirius?" I called up the stairs once I had passed Mrs Black. "Padfoot are you in?" There wasn't a reply so I began to walk upstairs as often when Sirius was in his room he couldn't hear me from the hall. I reached the second landing and called his name again.

"Moony?" Came his reply.

"Who else would it be?" I said as I continued towards Sirius' voice. I found Sirius in the attic which he had illuminated with numerous floating candles. He was stood in the centre of the room still in his pyjamas, despite it being half three in the afternoon, apparently blasting open trunks, while Kreacher trundled around cleaning up the debris.

"What on Earth are you doing?" I asked as Sirius magically lifted a trunk into the air then blasted it apart. This trunk had been filled with baby clothes and they showered into the room like miniature parachutes. I plucked a small blue baby grow from my shoulder and looked expectantly at Sirius.

"I'm looking for stuff." Sirius replied peering at the baby clothes Kreacher was now dutifully bound to pick up. Sirius had a look around for a trunk he hadn't already blown to pieces while I inspected some of the other Black family relics he had uncovered. Amongst the objects littering the floor were old photographs, a few _delightful_ paintings of muggles being tortured, a glass jar full of dead black widow spiders, a broken lunascope, a violin and a weird wooden ball whose function was unknown to me.

"What is this?" I asked Sirius, as I inspected the mysterious object.

"It's from inside a shrunken head, it's what's used to keep the shape." Sirius replied.

"Urgh." I said hastily putting the ball down. Sirius meanwhile levitated another trunk and blew it open with more force than was really necessary. I ducked form the flying splinters of wood while Kreacher made a weird squealing sound as the padlock of the trunk flew in his direction.

"Stop whining you warty cretin!" Sirius hissed at the house elf.

"Yes master." Said Kreacher, before adding, "disgraceful blood traitor, if beloved mistress was here he'd never be so rude to poor Kreacher."

"You should probably not be so harsh to him." I commented, while Sirius inspected the objects that had flown out of the trunk.

"I'll be polite when he is." Sirius said. "Ah ha! Accio mirrors!" Two square shaving mirrors flew into Sirius' open hand and he beamed at them.

"What are they?" I asked.

"These are the mirrors James and I used to talk to each other when we were in separate detentions. I left them here when I left home. Here-" Sirius handed me one mirror and I looked at my reflection in it. I frowned at how tired I looked.

"Say to the mirror that you want to talk to me." Sirius instructed, I looked blankly at Sirius for a few minutes then sighed.

"I want to talk to Sirius." I said to the mirror. My reflection rippled and was presently replaced my Sirius's smiling face.

"Good eh?" Said both the real Sirius and his apparition in the mirror. "Oh my broomstick is here as well!"

Sirius pounced on the old Nimbus 1000. "My uncle got me this. He was very pleased when I made the quidditch team. My parents weren't so pleased...they sent me a package full of manure, do you remember?"

"Unfortunately." I said with a smile. Sirius's parents had sent the manure inside a howler which exploded, as howlers often do, showering the entire griffyndor breakfast table in smelly excrement.

"Snape was in hysterics. First time I'd ever seen him laugh." I added.

"Yeah...we got him back though!" Sirius said excitedly. "James and I enchanted the corridor leading to the Slytherin common room so the floor became impossible bouncy, so when he stepped on it he pinged up and hit the ceiling – which we had painted with Dr Marlowe's all-purpose-non-drying-permi-stick glue."

"But you got three weeks detention for that. I don't know if it counts as a victory."

"Detentions don't count. Snape was stuck to the ceiling for four hours, I think we won there."

I adopted the same stance on the Snape-Black-Potter feud that I had always taken: one of impartial silence. Sirius put his mirrors and his broomstick in an old slightly dilapidated basket, then inspected the other objects that had fallen out of the trunk.

"Is it just boredom that has spurred this treasure hunt?" I asked.

"Not just boredom. I also wanted to find the mirrors." Said Sirius as he inspected the broken lunascope. "Do you know what happened to the foe glass we used to have?"

"I really don't know Sirius," I sighed as I pushed some dusty books off an ancient purple armchair and sat down. "Sadly, I have a feeling it's still in the flat."

"Why? That thing was expensive. Why did you leave it there?" Sirius chastised as he poked the lunascope with his wand attempting to repair it.

"I had to move out in sort of a rush." I told Sirius. I spotted a large mahogany pipe on the floor next to me and so picked it up to have a look. I noticed some scoring around the mouth piece, a sign that the object might be cursed.

"What do you mean a rush?" Asked Sirius, before he added, "Oh don't use that, it will fuse your lips together."

I put the pipe back down, and said, "it's rather a long story."

"I've got time."

I sighed, "Er, well, when you were arrested, and the war ended, I was left with twice as much rent to pay and no job. And with the Order disbanded I wasn't getting an expense allowance anymore either. I couldn't pay the rent so I was evicted. And, as often happens when you kicked out of your home, I didn't have much to pack. I suspect the landlord took the foe glass to try and recoup some of the money he lost."

"Where'd you go?" Sirius asked, "after you left the flat."

"I didn't have anywhere to go." I replied. I rubbed my shoulder as the scar from where Greyback had bit me was starting to ache. "I didn't want to go home. In hindsight I should have done. I had no real reason not to, but back then I wasn't really in a healthy state of mind. And I felt...well I didn't want my mother to see how spectacularly I had ruined my life."

Sirius looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and regret, and I felt embarrassed.

"I spent a while...with no fixed address." I said vaguely.

"This was during your down period wasn't it?"

"Er, yes I suppose." I admitted. "My mother cottoned on to what was going on and came and rescued me from this god-awful muggle hostel called 'Ezee Sleep'. Word of advice: don't ever sleep somewhere where they spell things phonetically."

"Rescued you?"

"Oh, er, I – well I hadn't been looking after myself." I said simply not really wanting to go into details. "My mother took me to a muggle hospital, as she couldn't take me to St Mungos being a muggle. The muggle healers diagnosed me with depression and were going to send me to a psychiatric hospital. But obviously that would not have been a good idea -"

"No, if you told them you were a werewolf they'd think you were crazy." Contributed Sirius, "well, more crazy." He added with a sheepish smirk.

"Not just that, how would they cope when I transformed?" I said. "Anyway, my mother knew all of this so she wrote to Dumbledore and he got me transferred to the psychiatric unit of St Mungos. And...then I got better."

"Just like that?" Sirius questioned, his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"No, of course not. But eventually." I said. I heard Sirius sigh and Kreacher mutter to himself as he disposed of the shards of wood he had collected.

"Did you ever...?" Sirius said after a rather long period of silence.

"Did I ever what?" I said looking at the marauder sitting on a pile of moth-eaten bedsheets.

"Try to top yourself?" Sirius said quietly, and I frowned.

"Why would you ask that?" I said calmly.

"Er, well, um, I don't know. Did you?"

"No."

Sirius scratched the back of his neck, then looked at me seriously, "how did you do it?"

"What? I said no." I exclaimed feeling suddenly warm like someone was shining a bright light on me.

"Yeah, but you were lying." Sirius said with a shrug.

"How do you know?"

"I just know. I always know when you are lying. S'why I always win at poker."

I rubbed my eyebrow, then put my hand over my mouth. The wind picked up outside and we heard a high pitched whistling as it whipped it way around the roof.

"Anyway, I spoke to Sturgis yesterday, do you not want to know what he said?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Yes." I said defiantly.

"Remus I-"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it." I said firmly, feeling a flush of pre-transformation impatience. Sirius rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Kreacher!" He spat, and Kreacher reluctantly looked up at his master. "Take the basket down to the kitchen." Kreacher navigated his way through the clutter of the attic and picked up the basket full of Sirius' old things. Then with a loud crack and a cloud of dust, he dissaparated to the kitchen. Sirius turned his back on me and walked towards the small door that led back into the house. I stood up and awkwardly followed him. Once back in the hallway between Sirius and Regulus' bedrooms I tried to apologise.

"I'm sorry, it's uh, it's the full moon tomorrow and...I haven't had any wolfsbane this week." I explained, and Sirius turned back to face me.

"What? Why?" He demanded.

"Libatius Borgage, the wizard who made it for me, is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yes. Here, it's in the paper." I said pulling the Sunday Prophet from my pocket and handing it to Sirius who quickly read the relevant article.

"A stroke? That's weird for a wizard." Sirius remarked.

"Yes I know. Sturgis thought so too, and it doesn't say there, but Borage went missing for two days before his death."

"So what? You think he was murdered?" Sirius asked, and I shrugged, "it's a bit of a leap to make that conclusion Moony."

"Yes I know. I just think it's odd that's all."

Sirius chewed his lip while he thought, but he didn't share any of his thoughts with me. Instead he handed me back the paper.

"Can you not get another potion brewer?" He asked.

"Borage was the only one in the country that makes wolfsbane."

"It's okay Moony." Sirius then said noticing that I was still waiting for him to forgive me. "I shouldn't have been prying anyway."

"You know, I thought about it too." He added, as he put his hands in his pockets. "When I was in Azkaban. I planned it out quite a few times. But I never could do it. There were too many other things I wanted to do: I wanted to get Peter, I wanted to see you again, I wanted to see Harry again. Those things stopped me."

I looked at the lines around Sirius' eyes and the the scars of false imprisonment that were etched into them.

"I'm really sorry Sirius." I said.

"What for?" Sirius said, his voice light and unconcerned, as if the years he spent in Azkaban didn't bother him.

"I feel you got a very very raw deal."

"We all had it pretty bad didn't we? All the marauders." Sirius gave a defeated sort of smile. "Still I'm sure James isn't up there lamenting his death, so we shouldn't lament what happened to us."

I smiled. "Very true."

"And with marauders in mind, what are you going to do tomorrow night?" Sirius added with a mischievous smile.

"I thought I'd lock myself in the cellar at home." I said.

"Why don't you transform here?" Suggested Sirius, and I gave him an unconvinced look. "Transform here, then I can keep you company."

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea Padfoot. It was alright when it was you _and_ Prongs, but I don't know if you'd be able to control a werewolf by yourself."

"But you said we made you feel more like you, so perhaps I wouldn't have to control you. Also, we've got Buckbeak here; he'd protect me."

"I still think it would be too dangerous."

"No it will be fine." Sirius said airily. "We'll work out a little escape plan for me if things get hairy – no pun intended."

I sniggered, and Sirius said: "come on, I know you are tempted."

"We'd have to plan it really carefully. So that you don't get hurt."

"Yeah yeah, it'll be fine."


	45. Dog And Wolf

45 Dog and Wolf

(I quite like this chapter. I think I just love Sirius and Remus together. I miss having a friend like Sirius. Also I saw the HP7 film the other day, quite enjoyed it but it got me thinking...I am going to ball like a baby when I have to write the end of this...I know how it's going to go and boy is it sad...Oh, and do you guys mind that this story has got so long?)

A day later and we had concocted a plan. We were going to use Sirius' mother's room – or rather Buckbeak's room. When I went into the room to check it's suitability, I discovered that Sirius must have spent at least two weeks enchanting it for Buckbeak. He had transformed what once was another dark and depressing Black family room, into a small forrest. The carpet was thick mossy grace with a few ferns and wild flowers bursting through it; the furniture had been warped into bushes and small trees and ivy, dotted with clematis, concealed all the ghastly paintings and tapestries. Although some would perhaps see the room as one that had been destroyed by an invasion of nature, I thought it was actually a vast improvement. It was certainly appropriate for a wolf. Sirius had planted a portkey somewhere in the room as his escape plan, but to be safe he hadn't told me what or where this object was.

About ten minutes before sunset I went into Buckbeak's room with a cup of tea. The plan was that I would transform alone and while my wolfish alter ego was recovering Sirius in his dog form and Buckbeak would sneak in through the bedroom door which would magically seal once it was shut. After that it was down to Sirius to try and calm me so that I felt more like myself and regained control of my body. Although when I was younger Sirius and James could calm me quite quickly, that was a long time ago and Sirius was on his own this time. I drank my tea to try and settle my nerves while my whole body itched and twitched signalling the oncoming transformation. I shuddered and started to undress. I pulled my jumper (the green one that made me look ill) over my head then groaned as the muscles in my arms and legs spasmed. I took of my shirt and laid it on the broken bed that had been almost engulfed by ivy. I did the same with the rest of my clothes and soon I was standing naked my toes curling in the enchanted grass. I felt pain in my arms and legs as my bones started to stretch, but the pain was not as bad as I had expected given that I had missed more than a week's worth of wolfsbane.

A few minutes later I realised I had spoken too soon. A terrible piercing agony ran up my spine causing my to yell out and arch backwards before falling to the floor in shock.

"Jesus Christ!" I said breathlessly as I pulled myself onto all fours. I barely had time to recover before my spine rippled and cracked again. As I cried out in pain, fur pushed through my skin, my jaw stretched into a snout and my hands became paws. I heard the wolf howling in my head, screaming with excitement, yearning to reap its violent revenge on humanity.

"No...no..." I murmured desperately, only I could no longer speak. It was too late, just as the wolf was normally the quiet voice in my head, I had become the voice in his.

What happened immediately after I transformed is all a bit blurry. I remember fighting with Padfoot, I was trying to get out of the room I think, and then being kicked in the head by Buckbeak. The next thing I remember is lying on the floor having a dog playfully bite my ear. That's when I recognised him and felt a weird sort of battle going on in my head. I could hear the wolf screaming at me "Kill him! Get out! Get out! Kill them all!", but I also recognised the dog trying to play with me. Eventually I worked out who the dog was, and who I was. To show Sirius this, I pretended to want to bite him. Padfoot gave a doggish laugh and jumped away from me.

_You recognise me then_, he said in the strange canine language we could now use.

_Yes, touch and go for a moment though_, I replied. My head still hurt from where Buckbeak had kicked me so I looked over to the hippogriff. He was standing by the wardrobe that Sirius had at some point transfigured into the trunk of an oak tree, glaring at me and stamping his clawed feet. I stood up and cautiously approached him. Buckbeak gave a warning screech and raised one clawed front foot. I stopped not wanting him to kick me again. I didn't take my yellow eyes from Buckbeak's and bowed. Buckbeak considered me for a few moments. Then looked towards Padfoot who barked. The Hippogriff gave a screech back, which obviously meant something to Padfoot though I couldn't understand it myself. Then Buckbeak turned back to me and very reluctantly bowed back.

Once Buckbeak had accepted me I calmly sat down while Padfoot excitedly ran around the room, barking at Buckbeak who occasionally shrieked back.

_Can you communicate with Buckbeak in your dog form? _I asked Padfoot, who gave a slow particular sort of blink which meant yes.

_Though he's not much of a talker,_ Padfoot added. _Are you okay? Transformation sounded bad._

_ It was quite painful, but I'm alright. _I replied. Then Padfoot ran around me for a little bit, and if I were human I would have rolled my eyes, being a wolf I pricked my ears slightly telling him that I didn't really want to play. Padfoot continued to happily pant and wag his tail, then gave me a mock-threatening growl.

_I don't want to play, I'm too old. Besides I always win,_ I told him with a glare and a flash of my teeth. Padfoot wasn't at all perturbed by my threat. He jumped at me and tried to push me over.

_Yes, but I have spent a lot more time as a dog – I've become attuned to the canine psyche_, Padfoot bragged while he tried to bite me.

_I've had a canine psyche plaguing me almost my whole life,_ I returned with a slight snarl. _Plus I'm still much stronger than you. _Padfoot just bounced on his hind legs in excitement. 

_I'm fast though._ He declared darting around me to prove his point.

_Fine_, I said with a glint in my eyes and a wolfish grin. I stood up and raised my hackles to make myself look even bigger and prowled towards Padfoot. Sirius was really a huge dog, I'm sure he frightened quite a few humans, but I was still at least twice his size. But Padfoot was not at all afraid of me. That had always been the best thing about spending the full moon with the marauders: none of them were afraid of me. They trusted me. No-one before or since has ever shown me that curtesy. Of course, it would be wrong to say the marauders weren't nervous. In fact, as James described it, the first time the marauders spent a full moon with me they were 'bricking it' until they managed to calm me down enough for me to feel like myself again. And as Sirius had reminded me not that long ago James did temporally loose control of his bowels when he first saw me, which was something Sirius and I wouldn't let him forget for at least six weeks. Peter too was having panic attacks the first time (though I hardly pity him now), but even he put his fear aside for my sake. When they had confronted me after they had found out what I was, at best I thought our friendship was over. I thought when they approached me that they were going to curse me then have me thrown out of Hogwarts, but that wasn't their intention at all.

I was twelve and recovering from a full moon where I had somehow managed to scratch my face. I almost lost my eye, and as the wound was inflicted by a werewolf normal magical cures were ineffective, so I had to have a patch over my eye for a week. Partly to avoid pirate jokes, partly to avoid awkward questions, I stayed in the hospital wing for the whole week. However, when I left the hospital wing I was a week behind in all of my classes and I still had a large cut on my face. I've never been a brilliant liar; when I have been required to on Order missions I can just about manage it, but when I'm required to lie to my friends something always betrays me. I told James that I had been in the hospital wing with Dragon Pox and I had cut myself scratching at the rash, which I thought was quite a good cover, but although he didn't say anything I knew James didn't believe me. And a few days later when I was up late trying to catch up with my homework Sirius decided it was time to break out the W-word.

"Glad to see you're feeling better!" He had exclaimed loudly jumping onto my bed in our dormitory ruining my carefully constructed arrangement of open textbooks. I frowned and pulled a textbook from under Sirius' arse.

"Oh, er, thanks." I said quietly.

"You're ill rather a lot aren't you?" Sirius said meaningfully and I avoided his eyes.

"Er, do you think so?" I said casually "I probably just don't get enough sleep. Anyway, have you done your history essay, cos I still haven't decided what to write..."

"You're always ill at the same time as well. Around the _full moon_." Sirius said, his eyes narrowed which I found quite threatening. I looked up at him and tried to keep calm even though the hair on the back of my neck had prickled and I couldn't even hear Mick Jagger singing Brown Sugar anymore.

"What?" I said cooly. "I don't know what you mean."

"It's okay you know." Sirius then said his face unsmiling and serious. "We wouldn't mind."

"What? Wouldn't mind what?" I asked slightly frantically. I suddenly heard James enter the dormitory, slamming the door behind him as he often did. I inwardly sighed with relief that James had ended our conversation.

"You should have heard him just about midnight!" James sang brightly as he ruffled his hand through his hair. He noticed Sirius on my bed and grinned at him.

"Peter got his foot stuck in that step again." He told Sirius and I. "I was going to pull him out, but then I thought 'he's got to learn!' so I just left him there."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, "nice."

"What if he get's pulled all the way in?" I asked, though I was more amused than concerned.

"He'll probably pop out somewhere unexpected," James suggested leaning on one of the pillars of my four poster. "Hey! We should force him down to see where it goes!" I grinned but shook my head while Sirius laughed again.

"Anyway, what were you talking about? Looked serious." James then said and at once all the tension returned to my body.

"The history essay." I said at the same time as Sirius said, "Remus being ill a lot."

"Oh right." James said his smile fading into a look of determination. "Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" I asked anxiously. James and Sirius exchanged looks, and I was sure they were communicating in a secret silent language only they knew.

Then James said, without a trace of apprehension, "we know what you are." I felt my throat close up and my palms start to sweat.

"You – you know what?" I mumbled.

"We know you're a werewolf Remus." Sirius said simply.

"No I'm not." I firmly insisted.

"It's okay!" Sirius cried out. "It's kinda cool actually. We should set you on Snivellus."

"Shut up Sirius." James said smacking the back to Sirius' head.

"Ow, watch it Potter." Sirius warned rubbing his head. I looked at the two boys, unable to understand why they weren't cursing me or trying to restrain me. Was it because they have some worse punishment planned?

"You're not..." I began in a faint shaking voice. "You're not going to tell anyone are you? I'll get kicked out."

There was a weird period of silence where I recovered from the shock of actually admitting what I was, after lying about it for so long, and where James and Sirius recovered from the shock of having their suspicions confirmed. They both looked carefully at me, as though they couldn't quite believe I was real. I grew more anxious under their gaze. I imagined packing all my spellbooks and clothes back into my trunk, getting on the train by myself and leaving Hogwarts forever.

"We're not going to tell anyone." James said sternly. "Though, I'm a bit peeved you didn't tell us. We're supposed to be your friends, and you'd keep a secret like this from us?"

James seemed genuinely cross at me. I started open mouthed at him.

"I thought...I didn't..." I stammered.

"Oh it doesn't matter." Sirius cut in. "We forgive you.Anyway, we've been doing some reading – I know, it's shocking – but we've have an idea..."

To this day I struggle to comprehend why James and Sirius would want to risk so much just to help me. But I am so grateful that they did. They did more than just help me, they made the full moon fun, which was something I never imagined possible. Spending the full moon with Sirius almost twenty four years later reminded me of the nights we had spend prowling Hogwarts grounds and exploring the forbidden forrest.

However, I should have known better than to think suppressing the wolf would be this easy. I had won all three wolf verses dog wrestling matches Sirius and I had played, but rather than admit defeat, after the third, Sirius just jumped up and exclaimed with a bark: _Best out of seven?_ I lay down and was about to tell Sirius to go chase his own tail when I suddenly heard voices outside in the street. Human voices.

In the space of a few second everything changed. I jumped up. My body bristled with excitement and hunger and my head was thrown into agony as my mind tried to battle with the wolf.

_Kill them! Disgusting Humans! Rip them apart! _The wolf screamed and my paws scraped at the wooden floor.

_I don't want to I don't want to!_ I told myself, as I desperately tried to hang onto control of my own body. But I was fighting a loosing battle. It felt like I was sliding backwards down a tunnel away from my body and into darkness. I could almost see my body moving further and further away from me, and I felt less able to control it. I tried but I couldn't stop myself charging towards the door. And when Padfoot jumped at me, bit my neck and tried to pull me back, I couldn't stop myself grabbing him with a swipe of my claws and throwing him off me. I couldn't stop myself pouncing at the door whilst roaring for blood. After that I wasn't even aware of what was going on. My mind had been completely usurped by the wolf. My body belonged to it now.

The next thing I knew I was painfully turning back into a man. Furr was receding, claws turning into nails, a snout into a jaw. Once I was back in my human body I gasped slightly and sat on the grass covered floor while I caught my breath. I felt sore and exhausted, but that was normal for the morning after. Slightly less normal was my pounding throbbing head. I reached to where the pain was most acute and felt a sticky sort of wetness across my forehead and in my hair. When I pulled my hand away it was smeared with blood. I swore to myself, but at the same time thought that it can't be that bad an injury considering I was conscious. My next thought was of Sirius. I dragged myself to my feet, which wasn't easy given the tremendous pain in my back, and found my clothes still resting on the ivy-consumed bed. I quickly put my trousers on, found my wand then exited the room.

"Sirius?" I shouted once outside. The was no reply and I became extremely worried. Please God let me not have hurt him. "SIRIUS?" I shouted again. Then suddenly I saw his shaggy head appear over the banister from the floor above and I breathed again.

"Ah you're back!" He said brightly, "Ooh, that cut looks nasty."

"Why the Hell didn't you reply straight away?" I shouted angrily at him. "I thought I'd killed you!"

"Relax Moony." Sirius said as he made his way down to meet me. "All's cool."

I rolled my eyes then glared at him. "What happened?"

"Ah, well you went a little mad after we heard those muggles go past." Sirius said once he reached me. He was showered and dressed and cheerful looking, but I could see dark circles under his eyes betraying the fact that he had not slept last night. My howling and attempts to break out of Mrs Black's room must have kept him awake. I felt an ache of guilt.

"I tried to calm you down," Sirius continued, "but it wasn't really working. Then you lost your temper when you couldn't get out and tried to attack me, but Buckbeak kicked you in the head again before you could get close – hence the gash on your forehead. You got knocked out for a few minutes which was enough time for Buckbeak and I to get out using the portkey. I figured it was probably best to leave you alone after that."

"I see." I said my shoulders sinking as I imagined what had happened.

"Anyway, next time I thought we'd soundproof the room."

"Next time?" I repeated with incredulity. "No, I'm not risking that again. I could have killed you."

"It was fine. You came out of it worse than me. Besides, it was only because you heard people outside that you went nuts, if we soundproofed the room it'd be fine."

I sighed and shook my head with disbelief but a smile tickled the corners of my mouth as Sirius' obscene and inappropriate optimism was actually very endearing.

"Anyway, you're probably wanting to go to bed right?" Said Sirius.

"Yes." I admitted folding my arms over my unclothed chest, "is it alright if I sleep in Regulus' room?"

"Of course. It's practically your room now anyway." Sirius said. Then he stepped past me towards the stairs. He turned back to me before he went down them. "Oh, just to warn you: stay away from Buckbeak...he really doesn't like you."

"Right...hated by a hippogriff, that's new." I remarked with a defeated shrug, "where is he?"

"He's in the garden at the moment." Sirius replied. "I had to let him have a little fly last night. He's a bit cross at me as well. Can't understand why I'd want to hang out with a werewolf."

"I don't blame him."

"Yes, well the maths does look bad." Sirius said with a characteristic smirk. "What is now? Er, six times that you've tried to kill me?"

"Yes yes alright, let's not make a fuss about it." I said with a small smile while Sirius sniggered.

"Anyway, get some sleep, come down when you're hungry." He added before heading downstairs. I slowly made my way up to Regulus' room, my whole body feeling like lead. I had just enough energy to magically heal the cut on my head, but not enough to clean the blood out of my hair, so when I collapsed on the bed I left a smear of it on the pillow.

When I woke up, at about six that evening, I noticed the bloody smear and decided to have a shower before going downstairs. Once respectable looking again, I hobbled down to the kitchen (my back still ached quite a bit) where Sirius was cooking some steaks (the only thing he could cook). I relished the smell, but then felt a stab of shame at my wolfish fondness for red meat. I buried the feeling and sat down at the kitchen table. Sirius, who had been absorbed in the Daily Prophet looked up at me when he heard the scraping of my chair. He asked me if I wanted any dinner then set about frying a second steak when I nodded. Once there were two steaks cooking Sirius sat back down at the kitchen table and ran one hand through his hair. He looked at me and I could tell he wanted to tell me something but wasn't sure how to begin.

"What is it Sirius?" I asked gently.

"I'm going to see Harry." Sirius said plainly. I opened my mouth to tell him I didn't think it was a good idea but Sirius cut across me: "I know! I know what you're going to say. But I'll be careful. I know how to keep myself hidden."

"But Hogwarts is exactly where the aurors and Dementors expect you to go." I argued. "If you are seen, you wont stand a chance." I felt a cold clammy feeling in my chest as I imagined what would happen if Sirius was caught. I didn't think I could bare loosing him a second time.

"Yes I know," Sirius said with heavy sigh, "but I need to see him. I can't have a proper conversation with him in a letter in case it is intercepted, and the last time I tried to speak to him through a fireplace someone almost saw me. Face to face is the best option."

"Why do you need to see him?" I asked quietly. Of course I could understand that Sirius would want to see his Godson purely out of love, but I suspected there was another, more specific reason.

"I'm just worried." Sirius replied, and for a brief moment he looked his age. "Too many strange things have been happening...In his last letter Harry told me that he had seen Barty Crouch snooping around Snape's office on the map, but it says here in the paper that Crouch has been off work for weeks due to illness..."

"Yes, that was something else I meant to tell you," I said, "Molly mentioned to me that Crouch has been ill, her son Percy works for him you see. Apparently Crouch was too ill to attend the Tournament Ball and Christmas. Percy's theory is that he's overworking, but Molly implied that it was more serious than that."

"If he's that ill, what on Earth was he doing in Hogwarts? If Harry saw him on the map then he was definitely there." Sirius said leaning forward in his chair.

"The map never lies." We then said together.

"That is strange. And why Snape's office?" I asked.

"Harry seems to think that maybe Snape is working for Voldemort – that he's the one who put his name in the Goblet – and Crouch was there looking for evidence of this. Harry thinks Moody had the same idea." Sirius said, though he didn't seem convinced by this theory.

"I don't doubt that Severus hates Harry, my experiences teaching there taught me that much, but I don't think he would try to kill Harry, and I don't think he's working for Voldemort – Dumbledore trusts him, and when has Dumbledore been wrong?"

"Wherever Snape's allegiances lie, none of this explains why Crouch would sneak into his office at night, when he's supposed to be too ill to leave his house. If Crouch wanted to investigate Snape he would go to the Tournament events. It would be an ideal excuse to keep an eye on him."

I nodded and took a moment to admire Sirius' astuteness. The admiration was short lived however as Sirius' steak had begun to smoke.

"Er, the food is burning." I pointed out pointing to the Stove behind Sirius. Sirius turned around, swore then jumped up to rescue our dinner. A short while later Sirius and I were dining on a slightly 'chargrilled' as Sirius put it, but otherwise tasty steak and chips, while we tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle that we had collected over the last year.

Bertha Jorkin's death had been the start of it. If Voldemort had killed her, as Dumbledore seemed to suspect, then he would know about the tournament, so may have planned something sinister involving it. I had found out in Germany that Voldemort had a servant working for him, and if Dumbledore's suspicions were correct, then it may have been that servant who had put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire. But why? What was Voldemort's plan? And although we really had no reason to think it, if Borage's death was connected, what did that mean? And now Crouch was sneaking up to Hogwarts to spy on Snape? It made no sense.

As Sirius succinctly put it: "It's all got too weird."

"I want to be near the school...in case anything happens." Sirius told me. I couldn't stop him. If I could have left my job, I would have gone with him. If this was all part of Voldemort's plan then we needed to piece it together, we needed to find out what was going to happen before it did to have any chance of stopping him.

"Just...make sure you're not seen alright?" I said, one of my hands closing over the other.

"Yes mother." Sirius joked.

"I'm serious." I insisted.

"No..._I'm_ Sirius."

I didn't know whether to laugh or hit him for his lack of comic subtlety. In the end I let out a snigger but shook my head to express my disapproval. "That was an awful joke. James would be ashamed."

"I know I know..." Sirius confessed, "but the moment was perfect. Listen, I'm going to give you James' mirror; I'll have it's twin, so I can contact you."

Sirius left with Buckbeak a few days later, and not long after that Harry came joint first place in the second task of the triwizard tournament. If someone was trying to kill him then so far they weren't doing a very good job.


	46. The Beginning

**46 The Beginning**

I kept James' mirror in my pocket almost all the time, just in case; but this turned out to be a mistake as Sirius had a habit of contacting me while I was at work. It is common knowledge that libraries are quiet places, so when someone's pocket suddenly calls out "Oi! Remus! You there?" in the voice of an escaped convict, it doesn't go unnoticed. Too many times I had to hurriedly rush out of a working area pretending to have a coughing fit to cover Sirius' voice. In the cover of one of the library's quiet cloisters, I would ask Sirius not to contact me at work unless it was a real emergency and he would exclaim with incredulity:

"I thought you'd be finished by now. How many hours to do you work?"

"Nine to five Sirius." I'd reply sardonically.

"Well what time is it now?"

"It's three."

"Oh, well I don't have a watch and it gets dark early up here."

Sirius revealed to me that Harry didn't know any more than us about what Voldemort might have planned; but that only made Sirius more nervous, because it meant Voldemort's spy was not making any mistakes. Sirius returned for the next full moon, and as he had suggested we soundproofed Mrs Black's bedroom. So apart from Sirius not managing to convince Buckbeak to trust me, the next full moon went smoothly. And excepting the worsened pre and post transformation symptoms, the mood swings, aching, tiredness etc, I didn't really miss the wolfsbane. But when the moon waned Sirius returned up north to stay near Hogwarts.

While he was gone, I sought Mundungus Fletcher. He never replied to the letter I sent him, but it was Dung, so I never really expect him too. Luckily, Dung wasn't hard to find. The word was that most nights he could be found in The Sleezy Wench, a pub that lives up to its name on Knockturn Alley.

So I flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and walked down to Knockturn Alley. I could have flooed straight to Borgin and Burks I suppose, but I wasn't keen to bump into the kind of people that frequent that establishment at ten o' clock at night. I made my way down the narrow, dark and dingy Knockturn Alley, trying not to make eye contact with any of the strange folk that were lurking there. When I reached the Sleezy Wench I had to jump out of the way of the doors, as two wizards, their hands wrapped around each other's throats came crashing through them, landing on the ground beside me. They didn't seem to notice that they had just gone through two hefty wooden doors, and continued to wrestle with each other. As I watched one bite the arm of the other, I wondered first what had happened to their wands, and second whether I should intervene. In the end I decided to let them work out their differences by themselves and stepped over them into the pub. Once inside I noticed that all the occupants were watching the brawl outside with amused expressions.

The landlord spotted me and his grin slipped away. I could understand why. Compared with the other patrons, I looked very clean and although my robes were rather worn and fraying in several places, I was still comparatively neat looking. I didn't smile as that would probably just get me hexed. Instead, I walked towards the bar under the silent gaze of everyone in the pub and ordered a whiskey. The landlord considered me for a few seconds, then poured a bourbon into a grimy looking glass.

"Twelve sickles." He demanded and I paid him. Once my money was in his hands, the pub's occupants began talking again. The landlord waved his wand at the pub doors causing them to repair themselves and fly back onto their hinges, shutting the feuding wizards outside. I took my whiskey to a quiet table in the corner which had a good view of everyone else in the pub.

The Sleezy Wench was quite the opposite of the Leaky Cauldron. Although like the Sleezy Wench the Leaky Cauldron was a little unkempt, unlike the Sleezy Wench, it had a much brighter friendly feel to it, which was propagated by the numerous paintings of merry looking witches and wizards. The Sleezy Wench by contrast was dark and unwelcoming, with unadorned walls and plenty of shadowy corners to conceal any misdeed one might want to commit. The only candles in the place were a few lining the bar and those that sat in the centre of each small wooden table. The candles illuminated everyone's faces from underneath so that they all looked like they were about to tell a ghost story. I didn't recognise anyone, but one woman sitting a few tables away looked as if she recognised me. She was quite a bit older than me, maybe sixty, and had a hooked nose and wispy black hair. I'd never seen her before in my life, but she was staring at me as if gobsmacked by my presence.

I spotted Mundungus Fletcher in the opposite corner sitting with two skinny wizards with matching black beards. I had seen him glance at me a few times, looking nervous, so he knew I was there, but he was pretending not to have seen me. I reached into one of my pockets and pulled out a small notebook. Then I took the biro I had stolen from my mother and quickly wrote a note in my awkward scrawl.

_Are you not going to say hello to an old friend Mundungus?_

I enchanted the note to fold itself into a paper aeroplane and float to Mundungus. It landed in his lap and I watched his shoulders sink as he read it. I wasn't entirely sure why Dung was so reluctant to talk to me. Perhaps it was because he knew I was here to pressure him for information. Dung made his excuses to his two companions and shiftily walked over to me. I smiled, which seemed only to make him more nervous, and he sat down opposite me.

"Alright Remus." He murmured glancing around, as if to check no-one was looking. I raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you so nervous Dung?" I asked making no attempt to hide my amusement.

"I don't want to be seen in here with you." Dung hissed, barely moving his lips to say it. I chuckled. "It's not funny!"

"Is that because I'm not completely human or because I'm not a crook?"

"Both! You are seconds away from having the bejesus cursed out of you!"

I laughed again, though I couldn't help but notice that quite a few people were looking at me. The woman with the hooked nose was still staring at me as if trying to melt me with her eyes.

"I'm sure I'll be fine." I told Dung.

"What do you want with me anyway?"

"You don't answer my letters." I teased.

"I don't always get them." Dung lied, glaring at a one-eyed wizard who was staring at him in an accusing manner.

"No matter Dung. I can always find you if I need you." I said and Dung glared at me. I laughed again.

"Don't look so worried. I just want to ask you a few things." I said quietly, unable to keep up the bravado of an interrogator.

"A few things..." Dung muttered petulantly. "Like what?" My lips curved into a smile, but it soon slipped away.

"Who murdered Libatius Borage?"

"What?" Dung spluttered with an anxious laugh. "I don't know anything about that – er I mean, he wasn't murdered...it was a heart attack or something."

"A stroke." I corrected. "In a perfectly healthy man who disappeared for two days before his death."

"I honestly know nothing about it Remus." Dung insisted, but the way he squirmed in his chair betrayed his dishonesty.

"You know, I have some interesting information about you...concerning a Banshee and a Goblin and twenty thousand Galleons..." I said casually.

"How did you know about that?" Dung exclaimed in another anxious hiss, and I grinned.

"Word gets around."

"Alright alright! Merlin Remus where did you learn these underhanded tactics?" Dung accused. I blushed. Sirius had actually been the one who had told me to mention the Banshee the Goblin and the twenty thousand Galleons. I had no idea what that story entailed, I didn't really like to ask. When Sirius had mentioned it I thought it was the start of a joke.

"The rumour is that, yeah, he had a stroke...but the stroke was induced by...forceful memory extraction." Dung told me quietly with another shifty glance to his left and right. So someone wanted a memory from Borage...that would fit with my theory that someone wanted potions knowledge from him.

"Do you know who by?"

"I don't know...but there are few wizards who can perform that kind of memory extraction..." Dung said looking fearful. "In fact, I've only heard of one wizard doing it. You know which one I mean."

I took a deep breath.

"I've heard rumours. That...he is returning..." Dung whispered, the last of the colour in his cheeks fading away. "His, uh, _friends_, the ones that changed sides, are all afraid."

"Yes I know."

"Is it true?" Dung asked. "I thought he was dead..."

"He's not dead. And there is quite clear evidence that he is trying to regain his powers. He has attempted it already, and failed..." I told Dung, thinking of how Voldemort had tried to steal the philosopher's stone only to be thwarted by Harry. "So it's certain he'll try again." Dung swallowed and he started to pick at his nails.

"I don't know anything." He said. "No-one does. They think he's coming back, but they don't know how or when...all they know is that those of them that changed sides will be...punished."

"Is that all you know?" I asked, my voice bearing traces of hopelessness.

"Er...no." Dung said then he looked directly at me. He had a strange expression on his face, I couldn't tell whether it was fear or pity.

"What else?" I asked, feeling confused.

"There have been people looking for you." I rubbed my right eyebrow as I struggled to understand what Dung was trying to say.

"What people? What do you mean?"

Dung took a deep breath. "Someone is looking for a werewolf. A particular werewolf. One who is a friend of Dumbledore and an enemy of Death Eaters. That can only be you."

"There's a man hunting for me?" I questioned in surprise.

"Oh, he's not a man." Dung corrected.

I suddenly felt a cold weight of dread press down on me, "what?"

"He's a vampire." Dung told me, and at once I knew which vampire. Leohnard. Dung recognised the look of dawning comprehension on my face so added: "you know him?

"Yes." I said simply.

"You know why he's after you?"

"Yes." There could only be one reason: I had killed his court of vampires, he wanted revenge.

"Are you in trouble?"

"I might be."

I didn't tell Sirius what Dung had said about Leohnard. I didn't tell anyone. I told Dumbledore that Borage had had memories stolen from him, probably by Voldemort, but too late to make a difference. What we had feared most happened in June before we could prevent it.

Sirius had broken the news to me. I had spent that afternoon in my garden picking tomatoes and strawberries and listening to the radio for news of the third task. But the winner was never announced, in fact the wizarding news was suspiciously quiet about the tournament. When ten o' clock came around, and I had still heard nothing, I decided to stay up just in case Sirius or Dumbledore or Moody or someone appeared in my fireplace needing my assistance. So I read a book (Great Expectations), ate far too many strawberries, and waited. I don't know when I fell asleep, but when Sirius appeared in my fireplace I was passed out in an uncomfortable position on the sofa, the book open in my lap and my fingers stained with strawberry juice. I didn't wake until I heard Sirius impatiently hiss my name. I woke with a start and a groan as one of my arms had gone numb. I saw Sirius standing in my fireplace his face gaunt and pale and at once I knew something terrible had happened.

"What is it? What's happened?" I demanded, standing up and massaging my numb arm. Sirius stepped into my living room and opened his mouth to speak but all that escaped was a pained sigh. He clasped his hands together, and looked at the the painting I had hanging on the wall by the window. It was one of my mothers: an oil painting of a beach in cornwall. The beach was vast and empty, the sea miles in the distance; the only life in the painting was one small boy, me, standing with a bright red bucket in his hand, apparently lost in thought. Sirius stared at the depiction of me for a few moments, but I don't think he was really seeing it. Then he ran his hands through his hair and turned back to me.

"The third task was to find the triwizard cup in a maze." He said in a quiet and unemotional voice. "Harry and Cedric Diggory found it first, but when they touched it...they were transported to a graveyard."

Sirius looked at the floor, "Voldemort was waiting for them."

I covered my eyes with one hand and leant against it.

"The poor boy..." I murmured. "Is he alright?" I added as memories of very giggly baby with bright green eyes and a penchant for pulling my hair flooded my mind. Sirius looked at me and shook his head. Then he told me of how Cedric was killed as soon as he and Harry arrived in Little Hangleton, how Wormtail was there – the murdering betraying bastard – how he had cut Harry's arm to add his blood to the potion Voldemort used to bring himself back, how Voldemort had tortured Harry, taunted him, and then tried to kill him.

"Voldemort made Harry duel with him. Harry tried to disarm him. But his and Voldemort's spells connected...They joined together and then-" Sirius took a deep breath, "James and Lily – ghosts of them – came of Voldemort's wand. Dumbledore said that as Harry's and Voldemort's wands have the same core, this caused Voldemort's wand to regurgitate the spells it had cast. The ghosts of James and Lily surrounded Voldemort, giving Harry enough time to get the cup and come back to Hogwarts."

I closed my eyes as I imagined the horror of it. I felt a surge of anger. James and Lily should not be dead. It was an abomination that they were not alive and happy with their son. How Harry must have felt to see them again, to see them materialise out of the wand of their killer.

Then Sirius told me about how Barty Crouch junior had spent a year acting under Voldmort's orders disguised as Alistor Moody, and about how Fudge had marched into the school and ordered a Dementor to suck out Crouch's soul.

"He did what?" I exclaimed at this revelation. "Is he mad? Crouch is obviously a psychopath, but we need him to give evidence – how else will people believe that Voldemort's back? The country exulted when he fell, his return is what they fear most – no-one will accept-"

"You're getting ahead of me Remus!" Sirius interrupted. "Dumbledore thought the same as you, that people needed to know Crouch's story. He was furious at Fudge. But Fudge doesn't believe that Voldemort is back, he thought it was all Crouch –"

"But Harry-" I began angrily.

"He doesn't believe Harry. Rita Skeeter has been writing for months that Harry is barmy and Fudge believed her." Sirius replied his voice rising as he shared my rage.

"What? But everyone knows she's just writes shite!" I exclaimed, my accent suddenly quite striking. Sirius' eyebrows jittered with shock when I swore, but he was too angry to dwell on my uncharacteristic exclamation.

"Dumbledore tried to convince Fudge that what Harry is saying is true – that it's the only explanation of Bertha Jorkin's death, Crouch senior's illness, Moody getting attacked last Summer – and it could explain Borage's death as well, Voldemort brought himself back with a potion, so maybe he needed the knowledge of an expert. But Fudge refused to accept it. I watched him fight with Dumbledore-"

"You watched them? You were there? Were you disguised?"

"Yes, I was in my dog form, in the hospital wing with Harry." Sirius explained. "Fudge won't help us. He made it quite clear that he wont take Dumbledore's advice. He's not going to do anything. Dumbledore told him that we need to unite with the giants – before Voldemort does – but Fudge refused. And when Dumbledore said he'll fight Voldemort with or without Fudge – Fudge looked at him like he had challenge him to a duel! Then Snape came over and shoved his Dark Mark – you know the tattoo Death Eater's have – he shoved that under Fudge's nose, but Fudge just looked at Snape like he was mad."

Sirius ran his hands through his hair one more time the sat down in the armchair by he fireplace.

"The ministry wont help us." He said. "We are on our own."

Sirius face was steely and resolute; he was ready for a war. I felt clawing at my heart and wanted to scream. I remembered the pain of the first war. When my father had died trying to protect Gideon Prewett and his family, only for Gideon and his brother to be killed a week later; all the battles I fought in, where witches and wizards died all around me; and of course the night I lost all my friends in one fell swoop. I desperately didn't want another war. But war had come all the same. And if once again our peace, our freedom, our happiness was threatened, I wasn't going to lay down and accept it. With a slow breath I met Sirius eyes and silently told him that for him, for Harry, for everyone we loved, I would fight to the death.

"Dumbledore told me to come here," Sirius said, "we're to get the Order back together."


	47. The Order Of the Phoenix

**47 The Order of the Phoenix**

I never imagined that in the course of recruiting members for the Order I would wind up with a young witch pressed against me. Still less did I imagine that witch would be Nymphadora Tonks. Well, actually that is a lie: I often imagine Tonks pressed against me, though in my imaginings I don't usually have my wand pointed at her neck.

"What the hell are you doing?" She exclaimed angrily. "You can go to Azkaban for this!"

I suppose things had gotten a little out of hand, and I was risking an awful lot, but for some reason I really trusted Tonks.

How I ended up in this unusual situation is rather a long story. It started when Dumbledore knocked on my front door less than twenty four hours after Voldemort had returned. By this time I had already sent my Patronus to a number of old Order members and received several replies. When Dumbledore arrived he told us that he had already recruited the aid of his brother, the Weasleys, a few old friends including Elphias Doge, the Hogwarts staff and the real Mad Eye Moody. So when the first Order meeting was held, just two days later, Dumbledore already had a number of powerful supporters; although I admit that number was not great.

The first Order meeting was a strange and rather dramatic affair. News of Cedric's death and the chaos that had ensued at the third task had only just broken, the papers labelling the event 'a tragic accident'. Neither Crouch nor Voldemort nor Harry's involvement were mentioned at first. So the group that assembled for the first Order meeting were understandably baffled and anxious. The meeting was held in Hogwarts which is a strange place to be in the summer holidays. The whole place gets cleaned and as there are no students about the house elves do not restrict their cleaning to the nighttime, so you are likely to bump into one or two of them polishing a suit of armour with really quite extraordinary magic; most classrooms are locked but the larger ones remain open as they are used by the teachers to pursue their own projects/conduct their own research; the strangest thing however is the deathly quiet that fills the place. Without the sound of students rushing to lessons, chattering in the cloisters, casting spells, all the noises that go unnoticed usually seem suddenly very loud. Like the sound of dust being blown across stone floors, the faint crackle of flame torches and the musicality of an echo that has travelled far enough to lose its resemblance to the original sound.

I did not have much time to enjoy any of this however. Getting to Hogwarts was unusually difficult. We couldn't floo there as Dumbledore suspected the Ministry would be watching the floo network very closely for secret meetings of exactly the kind we were planning to hold; and of course it is impossible to apparate within Hogwarts' grounds, so we had to apparate to Hogsmeade then make our way to the castle from there. It would have looked very odd for fifteen or so people to arrive in Hogsmeade at the same time so we had to stagger our arrivals. Then when we arrived, as Hogwarts didn't habitually receive visiters during the summer, to avoid awkward questions, everyone was instructed to head to the Shrieking Shack where I was to guide them down the secret passage into Hogwarts. It was a horrendously tedious job as there was at least an hour's gap between each arrival where I just had to sit and wait. Plus I had to answer – or rather not answer – the same set of questions every time anyone arrived: "Is it true?" "Is he really back?" "What's the plan?" "How many of us are here?" "What can we do?". Sirius couldn't even wait with me as everyone still thought he had defected and until we had told them the truth they would surely try to hex him, or worse. He got to wait in Hogwarts. I passed quite a lot of time feeling jealous while I imagined him have a nice elf-made lunch, before taking a stroll through the empty castle, duelling with the suits of armour, maybe having a snoop round all the old Marauder haunts, and discussing things with Dumbledore.

When six o' clock came around, and everyone else had been sent up to the castle, I made my own way there, feeling that my role as Order dogsbody had already been established. Everyone had convened in the Great Hall, which was full of their heated voices. I could see Arabella Figg getting quite overwhelmed while Dedelus Diggle commanded Professor Flitwick to tell him what happened at the third task, and I noticed that Sirius was pointing his wand warningly at an angry crowd that had gathered around him. I rushed towards them. Sturgis Podmore and Moody had their wands drawn and it seemed the two of them and Sirius were locked in some kind of Mexican stand off. Minerva McGonagall was trying desperately to explain that Sirius was innocent, a task made difficult for her by the fact that she didn't really know the full story. Snape looked on with a sinister smile, obviously hoping that in the confusion someone would end up killing Sirius. I stepped in front of Sirius without my wand drawn. When Moody and Sturgis kept their wands raised I doubted the prudence of my actions as Moody is known to be a bit trigger happy when it comes to curses.

"Gentlemen please," I said calmly, "when Dumbledore arrives he will explain everything, and in the meantime I hope you will accept my sincere assurance that Sirius never defected."

After a few moments Sturgis lowered his wand, and after a few more so did Moody, and I sighed with relief.

"Where is Dumbledore then?" Sturgis asked me. "It's time we had some answers."

"Indeed it is Sturgis." Came a composed but commanding voice from the entrance. Everyone fell silent, and turned their attention to Albus Dumbledore. The old man, dressed in silver robes, walked into the Great Hall and invited us all to take a seat at the high table. We all did as we were asked and waited for Dumbledore's explanation.

"First of all, I think something should be said about Sirius Black." He said gently. Everyone's eyes turned to Sirius and he shot challenging looks back at them but said nothing.

"I shall not recount the whole story, as much of it is really Sirius' business and no-one else's, but I understand that a lot of you have spent the past fourteen years believing that during the first war Sirius killed another Order member: Peter Pettigrew along with eleven other innocent people, and gave information concerning the wereabouts of Lily and James Potter to Voldemort."

There were a collective intake of breath and tightening of fists at the sound of Voldemort's name. Dumbledore ignored the tension that had developed and carried on.

"I assure you that this is not true." Dumbledore said firmly. "Sirius Black never betrayed the Order. Peter Pettigrew, who faked his own death and now serves Voldemort, is the one responsible for the murders Sirius was accused of and is the one who betrayed the Potters. I hope you will trust that I am telling the truth, and I hope you will from now on trust Sirius as I do."

Dumbledore gazed at the rest of us, giving us time to question him if we wished to. There were a few glances darting around, many at Sirius, quite a few at me, but no-one said anything.

"Good." Dumbledore announced, marking the matter closed. "Now, the reason you have all been called here today is that once again, friends, I need your help."

Dumbledore then explained what had happened at the third task. Everyone listened in stunned and fearful silence, and when Dumbledore had finished the silence continued for a good few moments until Arabella Figg timidly raised her hand.

"Yes, Arabella?" Dumbledore said kindly, with a teacher-like smile.

"What do you want us to do?" She said in a shy but resolute tone of voice, perfectly capturing the sentiments of everyone in the room. Dumbledore smiled again, and there was a definite sense of gratitude about it. Then he explained the first few steps of the plan he wanted to execute. With the Ministry to all intents and purposes against us, the Order had their work cut out. Not only did each of us have to do the work of ten men, we had to do it in secret lest Fudge accuse Dumbledore of trying to usurp him and declare civil war.

The first step was to re-establish connections with witches and wizards who had helped the Order in the past, recruit as many new members as we could and try to enjoin the magical minorities, namely the goblins, the centaurs, the giants and the werewolves, not to join Voldemort. This mean that myself and a number of others were to act as envoys, and as a werewolf it was no surprise which group was the target of my diplomatic mission.

The second part of the plan was to protect our most important asset: Harry. As Arabella Figg had already been keeping a keen eye on Harry whenever he was in Little Whinging she was his main guard. But being a squib she needed our support, so the rest of us would take it in turns to patrol Little Whinging so that Harry had twenty four hour protection.

Harry wasn't all that needed guarding, as Dumbledore revealed.

"Some of you may know this, but for those who don't, during the first war Voldemort's fall was prophesied." Dumbledore told us. "Voldemort heard part of this prophecy, the part that suggested that Harry Potter had power enough to vanquish him. He never heard the second part of that prophecy, and it is essential that he never does."

"What did the prophecy say?" Dedelus Diggle asked in his small squeaky voice, and as I expected Dumbledore answered thus:

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you. In order to keep the prophecy secret it is best that none of you know what the prophecy says."

"Surely the prophecy will be safe in the Department of Mysteries," said Sturgis, "if that is where it is?" he added looking to Dumbledore for conformation.

"Yes, that is where it is." Dumbledore answered.

"Only those whom the prophecy is about are able to retrieve prophecies from the Hall of Prophecy." Moody told everyone, "so if you-know-who wants it, he'll get it himself, and those bunglers at the Ministry will certainly have some trouble keeping him out!"

"Would we really do any better Mad Eye?" Professor Spout said with a dark smile.

"Of course we would." Sirius answered, and everyone looked sharply at him as if surprised that he could speak. "We're the best in the business. You need to have more confidence Pomona."

At the use of her first name (which I didn't even know!) _Pomona_ Sprout blushed like a schoolgirl, and upon seeing that Sirius had not lost his charm, the rest of the table all instantly forgot why they ever doubted him in the first place. I smirked and rolled my eyes. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he regarded Sirius like a favourite nephew before bringing us all back to more serious matters.

"I do not think that Voldemort himself will attempt to break into the Minsitry. It isn't common knowledge that prophecies can only be retrieved by their subjects. What's more I doubt he will want to advertise his resurrection. Fear is his currency and he can generate much more of it by keeping himself hidden and letting rumours divide us. However, he may send his followers to the Ministry to do the job for him, and for that reason we should send Order members to the department of mysteries to stand guard.

"We already have one Ministry employee to help us gain access to the Hall of Prophecy," Dumbledore paused to smile at a blushing Arthur Weasley, "but it would be prudent to recruit as many Ministry officials as possible. Mad Eye, Arthur – can I rely on you two to do this?"

"I will do my best." Arthur said proudly.

"I've still got some sway with certain aurors – I'll talk them round." Moody said, and my heart beat a little quicker as I wondered if one of those aurors would be Tonks.

By the end of the meeting only Sirius hadn't been assigned a clear mission as with the bounty on his head there were few things he could do. Determined to be useful however Sirius offered his home in Grimmauld place as headquarters, and idea Dumbledore thought was excellent, as Hogwarts was obviously inappropriate. However, before the Order could use it, it needed to be made more secure. Although number twelve was the perfect hiding place for one man, now that it would house Order secrets, we needed a Fidelus charm, a boundary to prevent wizards forcing their way in, we would have to teach the door who the Order members were, and of course we would have to clean up a bit! Sirius and I, being somewhat lazy, never bothered cleaning most rooms so they were probably still infested with dark creatures and all manner of cursed objects. And of course not even Sirius had been living there for the past few months.

We had our work cut out, and over the next few weeks I hardly got any sleep. When I wasn't at work, I was drafting guard duty rotas, investigating what had become of the other werewolves, attending Order meetings, patrolling Little Whinging and helping Sirius set up security enchantments over number twelve. What's more, my dreams were frequently disturbed by a reoccurring nightmare. Almost every night I dreamt that Leohnard had broken into my house and while I was sleeping thrust a knife into my heart. In the dream I would wake choking on my own blood staring into Leohnard's viridescent eyes. Then I would actually wake up frantically feeling my sweating chest to check I was still alive.

But I wasn't the only member of the Order finding it difficult. By mid July number twelve was arguably the safest place in London, and we had started holding Order meetings there. Our numbers had grown, but only slightly. Progress was being made in small steps: Hagrid had found the giants and would soon leave to try and make contact with them; Arthur had managed to get a few more Ministry officials on board; Moody had almost convinced Kingsley Shacklebolt to join us – or at least, he had made him doubt the Ministry's version of events; and Snape was attempting to infiltrate Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters to act as a spy. It was during Snape's reports that Sirius' temper, which was quite fragile anyway, tipped into the danger zone. Sirius hated being trapped in number twelve while the rest of us were out working. Snape knew this and made little effort to conceal his taunts when he gave his reports. To Sirius' credit, he never retaliated, though I could tell, as Sirius listened to Snape, that all he wanted to do cover Snape in honey and feed him to angry doxies. When Order meetings came to a close I would try my best to console my friend, but nothing I said seemed to make much difference.

"The greasy-haired bastard!" Sirius spat one evening after a meeting had ended. Snape had already left along with many others, but Molly and Arthur were still here, along with their son Bill and Moody who were discussing how best to get the goblins on our side.

"They are not interested in gold and they don't need protecting. The only thing that I think would persuade them is power but we can't really offer them any." Bill was saying. I gave a deep sigh and began to shuffle together the papers that were splayed out on the kitchen table in front of me. The papers contained information I had collected on a number of suspected Death Eaters, including the information I had on Waldon Macnair that I had gathered in Germany – sadly Moody didn't think I had enough to get him convicted.

"Did you hear me?" Sirius demanded rudely and I frowned.

"Yes I heard you. And don't talk to me like that." I warned him quietly.

"He makes it sound like he's risking his life! He's not even spoken to them yet." Sirius continued ignoring me. "And did you hear 'better this than housecleaning'? That was an obvious snide at me. Like I want to be here! Hiding like a coward."

"I understand Padfoot." I said gently, looking up at Sirius who was sitting on the kitchen table glaring at the china plates stacked untidily in the kitchen cabinets. "There will be missions you can be involved in."

"Like hell there will be." Sirius said angrily. "I can't go anywhere. Until my name is cleared, I can't do anything. And you read the papers the other day: those muggles that got killed in East Anglia – it was obviously a Death Eater attack but they are blaming it on me! I have been completely demonised. No jury in the world would acquit me now. I will have to hide forever."

"You wont." I said, though I didn't feel that hopeful. "Once we get the Ministry on our side, they'll see how you have helped us and they will pardon you. Besides, who says you need to be acquitted before you can join the Order in a battle? I know we haven't got to the stage yet...but, well...you-know-you isn't going to go down without a fight is he?"

There was a bitter pause as the thought that one day in the future we might be engaging in duels to the death was not at all pleasant, even for Sirius.

"Anyway, there are things you could be doing," I continued, "Sturgis said the Death Eaters will probably have developed new kinds of magic, you could be researching that, there are plenty of books about dark magic upstairs-"

"Oh great." Sirius said sarcastically. "Planning, plotting, analysing...that's what _you_ do! I am a man of action."

I chose not to reply and instead turned to Arthur and Molly. They were locked in a conversation that seemed to be making Molly quite upset. I frowned, and Arthur looked up noticing that I was looking at them.

"We should really be going," he said putting his hand on Molly's shoulder, "come along Molly he added. Bill are you coming for dinner?"

"Er," Bill began, and I suspected that actually he had dinner plans with his friends, but then he noticed how sad his mother looked and so added, "yeah sure." Molly lifted her head and smiled at Bill.

"Would you not stay for some tea first?" I suggested, slightly worried that my mentioning future violence had been what had upset her: the idea certainly scared me, but I didn't really have any family, it must be a thousand times worse for Molly who had seven children to worry about. Arthur looked at his wife while he considered my offer.

"Yes alright." He said with a warm smile. I smiled back and flicked my wand at the kettle then summoned the teapot.

"Bill, Moody – will you join us?" I asked, and Moody looked at me with his normal eye while his magical one examined the teapot as if checking it for curses.

"I don't think so Remus, I thought I might try and get hold of Nymphadora Tonks tonight." He said and I tried not to look to excited. "She's not been in the office the past few weeks as she's been working on some undercover mission, so I thought I'd try and catch her at her home."

"Fair enough." I said, "good luck."

Moody bid us goodbye then turned on the spot and with a crack and a cloud of dust he was gone. Once the kettle was boiled I made some tea for us all while Sirius discussed the atmosphere at the Ministry.

"Most side with Fudge, and think that Harry is just making things up and that Dumbledore is loosing his marbles – which is ridiculous." Arthur told us. "But there's a definite sense of fear as well. People used to respect Dumbledore, and many still find it hard to believe that he would lie about something so serious – so now that Fudge is demanding that they pick a side they are feeling altogether rather torn."

"Well, torn means there's room for persuasion." Sirius commented.

"Yes, but Fudge has said he'll fire anyone consorting with Dumbledore..."

"The idiot. How can he be so blind?"

"He's desperate to hang on to his power, that's what it comes down to." Bill concluded wisely. "Anyway, how's Harry, have you heard from him?" Molly then asked. "Ron says he hasn't written to him for a few weeks."

"Harry is feeling abandoned I think." Sirius said with a worried crease forming between his eyebrows. "He doesn't understand why we wont tell him anything, and he hates the muggles he lives with. I don't understand why he can't come and stay here."

"Dumbledore explained this," I said mildly, "it is because the protection Lily gave to Harry when she died is channelled through all her blood relatives – namely Harry's aunt. Her home is the safest place for Harry to be."

"But that was before we upped the security on this place." Sirius argued. "He'd be just as safe here now."

"Er, well, I suppose..." I admitted thoughtfully. "Have you taken it up with Dumbledore?"

"I've mentioned it, but I don't think he really appreciates how frustrated Harry is." Sirius said grabbing his tea with one hand and taking a large gulp.

"How would we get Harry here?" I asked more to myself than to anyone in particular, "he can't apparate, and you can't side-along apparate anyone to Grimmauld..."

"You'll think of something." Sirius said causally and I rolled my eyes.

"You could fly." Arthur suggested, and I turned my attention to the bespectacled gentleman.

"Yes, Harry is a very good flier." I said. A silence following in which I ruminated on how we might transport Harry from Privet Drive to Number twelve.

Sirius eventually interrupted the silence with "anyway, how are you? How are the kids?"

Although it seemed a harmless question Molly's eyes at once became glassy and I could see her straining to keep calm.

"They are...fine." Her last word was almost inaudible as one irrepressible sob had taken her over. Sirius' cheeks went ever so slightly pink, which was testament to how much he cared, because he hardly ever blushed. Arthur put one arm around his wife and gave a deep sigh.

"I'm afraid we have had a bit of a fall out with Percy." Arthur explained sadly.

"Oh dear." I said sympathetically.

"What happened?" Sirius asked obviously wondering as I was how any sane human being could fall out with Molly and Arthur Weasley AKA the nicest people on the planet.

"Well...er," Arthur began, his ears going red.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't wish to." I assured.

"No it's alright, you are our friends...Percy recently got promoted." Arthur said. "He's now Fudges' junior assistant."

"How did he manage that?" Sirius asked apparently bemused. I was also quite surprised, I knew Percy was bright and ambitious, but after failing to notice that his own boss was being controlled by Voldemort I would have expected his career to take a serious knock.

"I mean, no offence or anything, but didn't Percy almost get fired for not noticing that Crouch had gone loopy?" Sirius continued in as tactful a tone as the last of the Blacks could manage.

"Er, yes, yes he did get in trouble for that, which was why I was...suspicious that he hadn't got his assistant job purely on his own merit." Arthur continued. Molly pulled a pained expression while she drank her tea. "I worried that Fudge had hired Percy to spy on the family. Fudge know's I'm Dumbledore's man. I think he suspects me of working for him, and I thought he'd hired Percy to gain information from me about Dumbledore."

"I see." I said clasping my hands together. "And Percy was offended?"

"Yes." Arthur admitted regretfully. "I probably should have been more tactful about it."

"You were raising a valid concern Dad." Bill said in Arthur's defence.

"It's not as if we don't believe in him, we do! He's a very intelligent boy." Molly added.

"Percy's just too proud." Bill argued. "He had no right to fight with you the way he did."

"What did he say?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Oh he made some remarks about, uh, the fact that I haven't progressed very far in my career..." Arthur said his ears going even redder.

"You hold a very honourable position." I told Arthur. "It is a failing on the part of the Ministry that they cannot see the importance of the work you do."

"Just what I've always said." Molly said gesturing a hand towards me. "It's just...oh, it's the money thing...poor Percy he's never enjoyed having to make do."

"There's more to life than money." Sirius said with assuredness.

"Anyway, Percy moved out and lives in London now," Arthur finished, "and he most definitely has sided with the Ministry."

"I tried to see him yesterday, to try and convince him to come home. But he wouldn't even see me." Molly admitted staring at her tea.

"I'm sure he will see sense. Perhaps he just needs some time." I suggested hopefully.

"He will come round mum, once he's realised what a child he's being." Bill added.

"Well, thank you for the tea, we really should head back." Arthur said his chair scraping across the stone floor as he stood up. Molly stood up with him and added: "Yes I need to get the dinner on. Arthur's doing the night shift tonight."

My eyes flicked between Arthur and his worried wife and I found myself saying, "Why don't I do the night shift tonight? Give you a bit more time with your family."

"Didn't you do it last night?" Arthur said with some surprise, "I wouldn't want you wearing yourself out."

"It's fine. We can swap if you're happy to do Saturday morning?" I said.

"That's very kind of you." Molly said putting a hand on my arm, to which I just smiled. Once Molly and Arthur had left Sirius questioned whether my taking on another night shift was really a good idea.

"It's the full moon in two days, if you face it tired it will only take you longer to recover." Sirius said to me, and although I dismissed his concerns he turned out to be absolutely right. After the added nightshift and then the unmedicated full moon, exhaustion got the better of me. Sirius persuaded me to take the weekend off (after catching me sleeping on top of a transcript of the trial of Anthony Driscoll, the werewolf I had met a few months ago, Sirius had told me quite forcefully: "take a break Moony, you've been working hard enough. Look if you don't go home and have a rest, I'll stupefy you.") but even with two day's rest I looked awful. My hair was much greyer which I think had more to do with illness than age, and I was loosing weight again.

In fact I looked so ill that people at work had started to notice. I was having to come up with excuses as to why I looked so tired, and with my skin so pale the scar under my eye had become more noticeable so I was having to explain that away as well, which was difficult as there are very few injuries that leave scars given magical healing solutions. Only cursed wounds tend to leave scars. I told people it was a scar from the first war and hoped they wouldn't ask questions, but the distrustful and slightly nervous look in their eyes signaled that they suspected the truth. My boss, James Walters, also noticed that I was starting to look more like a typical lycanthrope and called me to his office one morning to discuss it.

"People have been asking questions." He had said, with a stern and stressed expression. "If people find out, I'll have to let you go. The law states that people like you can only work in public places as long as they the public don't feel threatened, and if people start guessing what you are, they will feel threatened."

"That law is ridiculous." I argued. "'people like me' are only found threatening _because_ of stupid laws like that preventing us getting work."

This law, along with others of a similar nature, like the law that got me fired from Oxford, had been written by Delores Umbridge the vile woman who wanted to send me to Azkaban, who had caged me during full moons. I had found this out a few weeks ago from Arthur who had presented profiles of a number of Minsitry workers during an Order meeting. Laws like this were the reason why I had such difficulty getting work, and why so many werewolves lived in hiding as outcasts. I don't think Mr Walters entirely agreed with the laws, but he had no intention of breaking them.

"Just...do something about it." He said firmly, and I took that as my cue to leave. I wondered through the red carpeted hallways of the library while I wondered what would happen if I lost my job. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice when Mr Walter's elegant by eccentric daughter Emmeline approached me.

"Are you okay?" She asked linking her arm through mine which I found rather strange but she seemed to think was entirely normal.

"Yes, I'm fine." I replied calmly. "Thank you for asking." Emmeline encouraged me to walk with her down the corridor towards the Herbology wing.

"You look unwell." She added with concern.

"I look worse than I feel I think."

"Oh good, because I was hoping you would accompany me to an, uh, event this evening." She said in a hushed voice and I frowned.

"An event? This isn't – you're not...asking me on a date are you?" I asked glancing at the hand she still wrapped around my elbow. Emmeline stopped walking and smirked at me.

"If I were would you say yes?" She asked stepping back and regarding me with coquettish eyes.

"I er...well I don't –" I stumbled. Truthfully, I was tempted, Emmeline was very attractive, but for some reason a young witch with ever changing hair would not move from my mind, and even though I knew Tonks was not interested in me I couldn't help saying: "there's sort of someone..."

"Goodness really?"Emmeline exclaimed and I looked away from her. "Oh, sorry I don't mean to sound so surprised. But no I'm not asking you out."

She paused to check that the corridor we were walking along really was empty, and then said: "I'm sure you've read the papers, so you've heard about what happened at the triwizard tournament. That poor boy dying."

"Yes."

"Well between you and me, I'm not sure the Prophet's version of events really adds up. I mean why would Dumbledore be saying that, er, you-know-who was behind it if he wasn't? Why would Dumbledore lie? The papers say he's losing it but I don't believe it! It's Dumbledore – he's a bit eccentric but always on the ball, don't you agree?"

I smiled as it seemed I had found a potential Order member. "I do agree."

"Good." Emmeline said smiling, "in that case, how do you feel about conducting a little reconnaissance mission – to find out for ourselves if the rumours are true?"

I looked at the pretty blonde woman with intrigue. She seemed far to excited about what she was proposing than was healthy.

"What do you mean 'reconnaissance mission'?"

"Well, I've heard that Death Eaters enjoy unlicensed duelling." Emmeline said, "and if anyone knows whether you-know-who is really back or not it'll be Death Eaters right?"

"What do you know of unlicensed duelling?" I asked Emmeline who just smiled back at me and waggled her eyebrows.


	48. The Duelist

_I don't like this chapter :( I think it's kind of rubbish. I'm also not feeling very optimistic about the next one. I think it's because book five is hard – there's so much stuff going on..._

**48 The Duelist**

As it turns out, Emmeline knew quite a lot about unlicensed duelling. These sorts of duels are not illegal (although they would be if certain politicians got their way) but they are not backed by any official duelling club or society, and tend to be rather more dangerous. Although the rules state that opponents cannot use unforgivable curses, they are allowed to use pretty much anything else, and it is not uncommon for wizards or witches to be killed 'accidentally-on-purpose'. The duels were held in Knocturn Alley (surprise surprise) in the secret basement of the Sleezy Wench, so for the second time this year I walked down Diagon Alley towards the sordid establishment. This time though, Emmeline walked beside me and while we walked I asked her how she became embroiled in the dangerous world of unlicensed duelling.

"You mean how did the daughter of a rich and respectable man like James Walters get involved in this seedy underworld?" She asked. I smiled as well but didn't say anything.

"My husband." Emmeline then said. She gave me a dry smile before she elaborated. "Well ex husband. When I met him he was an exceptional duelist. Set for stardom. But his ambition got the better of him. He began to seek dark magic to help him win. But to gain the secrets of the kind of duelists who dally in dark magic, my husband had to do favours for them. One of those favours was to fight in unlicensed duels – which were fixed of course, so that their 'sponsors' always won their money back. He tried to keep all this secret from me, but I found out.

"He was...not a very nice man, in the end. He was jealous, controlling, cruel and always always drunk. I was fed up with it. So I decided to drop in on one of his 'secret' duels. And while I was there I challenged him. I made a bet: if I won he would never be allowed to come near me again, if I lost he got my inheritance."

My eyebrows raised at Emmeline's daring: she risked all her money, and it wasn't as if she was challenging just anyone, she was challenging a champion dueller.

"I won." Emmeline confirmed proudly. "I always thought I was a better dueller than him. His problem was that he thought only about the winning, he had no passion for the art itself.

"I have since pursued my own duelling career. I am enrolled in International Duelling League so I tend only to compete in licensed competitions. But occasionally I sneak down here for a bit of practice! There are some dodgy characters – and the duels are often used as places to sell illegal magic. But I have a few friends: they witnessed me beat one of their best so they have a certain respect for me."

We arrived at the Sleezy Wench, and I peered through the grimy windows. The place was just as dark and unwelcoming in the summer as it had been in the winter. We walked inside and I subtly scrutinised the patrons sitting in the smokey room. There weren't as many people as last time, but I noticed that the old witch with the hooked nose was here again, though she wasn't staring at me as she had done before.

Emmeline led us towards the bar. She leaned on it causally and boldly told the barman that we were here for the match. Then she handed him two tickets. The barman inspected the tickets, glanced at me, then gave Emmeline a stern look.

"I'm not letting him in." He said gruffly.

"Why not?" Emmeline asked as she regarded me with an offhand expression, as if perhaps the reason was because I wasn't wearing the right shoes.

"Do you not know what he is?" The barman shot at Emmeline with incredulity. I wondered how the barman knew: did he have a son or daughter at Hogwarts?

"I do know." Emmeline shot back, raising one eyebrow in an authoritative kind of way. "But even if her were a dragon he is still my guest, so unless you want me to vanish your testicles I suggest you let us both through."

The respect Emmeline had said the underground duellers had for her suddenly became apparent, as the barman flinched and nervously glanced at the wand Emmeline was now holding gently in her hand. The barman placed our two tickets on the bar and clicked his fingers. The tickets caught fire and were soon reduced to a small pile of ash which the barman brushed lazily onto the floor.

"Very well Mrs Vance." He said politely. The barman took his wand out of the pocket of his apron and held it to a very old bottle of port in the middle of a large shelving unit packed with liqueur bottles. He tapped the bottle twice and it began to tremble. The shelves uttered a tintinnabulation as the bottles upon them bumped against each other. Then two thin bony hands pushed through the port bottle like it was made of smoke. The hands curled around the edges of the bottle, then pushed apart the shelves like they were curtains. Through the opening I could see a sour faced old wizard. He held open the curtain-like shelves and beckoned Emmeline and I to come through. Emmeline looked at me, and her eyebrows jiggled. Then she walked around the side of the bar and through the opening with me following behind her.

Once on the other side the old wizard let go of the shelves and they fell together becoming solid once more. The light from the pub on the other side shone through the glass bottles bathing the small tunnel we were now in in a dim golden light. The wizard looked at us then pointed a gnarled finger down the tunnel. Emmeline and I walked in the direction he had indicated and soon found ourselves in a large room packed with people. The walls of the room were bare red brick and lined with flame torches. In the middle of the room was a long stone stage, with two spotlights at either end, one red and one blue. Also at either end of the stage was a doorway covered with a velvet curtain, red on one side and blue on the other, behind which was presumably each dueller's dressing room. Above the centre of the stage was a huge chandelier with twenty or so silver dragons curled around the candle brackets holding dagger like crystals in their claws. Wizards and witches were sat around small dark wooden tables talking, playing cards, discussing the upcoming duel and placing bets with a wizard in maroon robes and a black bow tie.

"Three time champion Fabian Jugson against wild card Bram Stoker!" The bookie was shouting, "odds: 4 to 1."

"Fabian Jugson?" I remarked. "I heard he was seen up in Nottingham last week – where two muggles were attacked." I added in a whisper to Emmeline.

"You think he's a you-know-what?" She asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised." I said.

"And Bram Stoker is obviously a false name." Emmeline said. I looked questioningly at her for a few seconds then it hit me.

"Oh of course! The muggle author of Dracula." I said and Emmeline nodded. "I wonder who he really is."

"We'll see shortly," Emmeline said looking at the stage. "The coloured lights are on which means there is only a few minutes before the dual starts."

We made our way to an empty table, pausing occasionally so that Emmeline could say hello to the people she knew. While we waited for the duel to start Emmeline ordered two glasses of wine from a passing waitress and I examined the other spectators. I almost laughed out loud when I saw none other than Mundungus Fletcher. He saw me and gave a subtle nod, but declined any verbal communication.

A few moments later another spectator entered the room. He was a tall man with short dark brown hair and a goatee, he was dressed in silk and velvet robes and looked obscenely rich. His name was Thomas Avery. A nasty greedy man who had been in my year at Hogwarts, and who had fought on Voldemort's side in the last war. Avery had got away with the crimes he committed by claiming he was under the imperius curse. The Order suspected he had now rejoined his old master, but we were unsure what duties Voldemort had bestowed upon him.

Avery swaggered into the room as if he owned it. He was accompanied by a huge angry looking man, clearly acting as Avery's bodyguard. I looked away from them both keen for Avery not to recognise me.

"You! Grufford! You got that money you owe me?" Avery suddenly shouted. Curiosity forced me to turn and look. Avery was pointing his wand at a short ugly wizard and seemed to be choking him.

"Y-yes yes!" The wizard spluttered, reaching into his robes. He pulled out a small leather pouch and dropped in onto the table in front of him. Avery called off his curse and the wizard gasped and put his hands to his throat. Avery summoned the pouch of coins, checked it, then put it into a pocket.

"Very wise Grufford. Had you left it any longer and I would have had to turn your knees back to front." Avery said with sinister amusement. The wizard swallowed and let his shoulder's droop in submission. Avery suddenly looked in my direction and his eyes widened.

"Hang on a second!" He cried and I inwardly groaned. "If it isn't Loopy Lupin." He added as he walked towards me.

"What on earth are you doing here?" He demanded. I noticed several faces were turned in my direction. The bookmaker was standing nearby watching me in confusion and Avery with apprehension.

"I'm hear to watch the duel." I said nodding towards the stage. Avery's eyes narrowed and his mouth twitched: he didn't believe me.

"Hello Emmeline. Always a pleasure." Avery said after he noticed Emmeline sitting next to me.

"If only I could say the same." Emmeline retorted and Avery laughed.

"Mind if I join your table?" Avery added to me in a falsely polite tone of voice. I exchanged looks with Emmeline, who gave me a very small shrug.

"Not at all."

"But sir -" Avery's bodyguard suddenly piped up, "didn't we have some business to attend to?"

"It can wait till after the duel." Avery said, sitting down opposite me. Avery's body guard continued to stand beside him.

"Why are you really here Lupin?" Avery asked me, after ordering himself a glass of wine.

"I've told you." I replied. "To watch the duel."

"I've never seen you here before." He pressed.

"He is here with me." Emmeline interjected on my behalf. Avery turned his attention to Emmeline.

"Merlin Emmeline you are roughing it." He spat looking sickened.

"Let the wand without sin summon the shackles." Emmeline retorted, "I hear you hang out with a very rough crowd these days."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Avery short back angrily.

"The word is you've got bored of selling illegal potions and are up to your old tricks again." Emmeline said boldly. "Some say you were at the quidditch world cup when those muggles were tortured."

"You've been talking to that old witch out in the pub, with the hooked nose. That's what she seems to think." Avery said.

"She's not the only one Thomas." Emmeline said.

"Do I need to remind you, that I have never been charged with anything?" Avery argued.

"Yes well, the Ministry often refuses to see the truth." I said.

"Are you talking about the rumours that the Dark Lord has returned? You believe them?" Avery questioned in a hushed voice. "Only the Potter boy seems to think they're true, and he's mad."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"What are you trying to say Lupin? Do you think _I_ know something about it?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Don't push your luck!" Avery spat drawing his wand and pointing it at me again.

"Want me to take him outside boss?" Avery's body guard said in a deep growling voice.

"No. Don't bother Mace." Avery said not taking his eyes off me.

"Put that away Avery," Emmeline said in her fearless voice, "the duel is about to start." I looked towards the stage and noticed that the referee was standing in the middle of it ready to begin the duel. The lights dimmed and Avery holstered his wand.

"For crimson, we have three-time champion: Faaaaabian Jugson!" The referee chanted. Fabian Jugson, an enormous man, came through the red velvet curtain, marched onto the stage and stood beneath the red light. He held his arms up triumphantly while people cheered. Then Jugson flung off his cloak, and with a flourish drew his wand from a holster at his waist. He held his wand high in the air so that everyone got a good look at it. It was short and tough looking, good for hexes.

"Shall we make a bet?" Avery asked me.

"For indigo, we have a new challenger this season: Braaaaaam Sto-sto-stoker!" The referee shouted and a short, slightly plump wizard with small round glasses, came out of the blue curtain and hopped onto the stage at the other end. He stood underneath the blue light and took off his cloak. He held up his wand, which was longer than his opponents but much thinner (a wand for charms really, though a wizard who is good at charms is invariably good at curses: take Filius Flitwick as evidence). He didn't look like a dueller – but I knew better. In fact, I was probably the only person in the room who knew better. Bram Stoker was really Solomon Knight, the author of _An Age of Blood. _I highly doubted that anyone in the room apart from me had read that book, so I doubted that anyone in the room apart form me knew just what an experienced fighter Solomon Knight really was.

"Why not? I'll wager on the wild card." I said and Avery's face split into a triumphant grin.

"Fine by me." He said arrogantly. "If fatty four-eyes looses you have to tell me who you are working for."

"If he wins you have to show me your arm." I said.

Avery glared at me, but then said: "deal."

"Duellers: get ready." The referee said as he stepped off the stage and up onto a raised stool where he would watch the duel. The two duellers nodded and stepped out of their coloured sections and into the white glow of the chandelier. They bowed to each other. Then they stood upright and adopted a readied stance, their wands held boldly in front of them.

"And...en garde!" The referee shouted and the duel began. The room erupted into a frenzy of cheers and was filled with bright fiery light as the two duellers shot all manner of complicated and violent spells at each other. The spells ricochetted into the walls whenever their were deflected, causing small explosions and sending bits of broken brick into the crowd. Both dueller's were thrown off their feet several times. Stoker was choked by snakes – set alight – thrown into the wall. It looked like he was going to loose, but then Jagson was flung into the air where invisible forces started to pull at his arms and legs.

"He's going to loose his arm!" Someone in the crowd shouted as Jugson yelled in pain. If Jugson lost his wand arm, or just dropped his wand, then that would count as a victory for Stoker. But then Jugson yelled out the counter curse and dropped back down onto the stage. He whipped his wand over his shoulder at Stoker and Stoker found himself being attacked by streaks of lightning that whipped around his body like the tentacles of a sea monster. Stoker fell to the ground. Everyone in the room stood up to see if he dropped his wand – but he hadn't.

"Expelliarmus!" Jugson yelled out, apparently seeking a quick victory. But even with the lightning burning his skin and surely causing him a significant amount of pain, Stoker deflected Jugson's disarming spell – which is something that is very difficult to do. Deflecting a disarming curse is like resisting the imperius curse: it takes extraordinary strength of will. The fact that Stoker could do this while being attacked by a hex was testament to his skill as a wizard.

Stoker stood up and pointed his wand at his own body. He pulled the tendrils of lightning away from him, then flicked them at Jugson. Jugson was hit. He flew into the air and landed a few feet behind him, his own cursed lightning wrapped around him. Jugson quickly called off the curse and jumped back up again.

"Stupify!" He yelled at Stoker, just as Stoker yelled "Expelliarmus!" The two spells collided, but Stoker's had more force: it knocked Jugson's spell out of the air, then knocked his wand out of his hand. Jugson gasped and stared aghast at his empty hand. Stoker had won.

There were cheers from those that had bet he would win and boos from those who had bet he would loose. Emmeline stood up and clapped.

"That was impressive wasn't it?" She declared happily. I turned to Avery with a small victorious smile.

"Time to pay up Avery." I said. Avery looked as though he might kill me. But then he held his left arm towards me, and while everyone else in the room was looking at the stage, he pulled up the sleeve of his robes. There on his forearm, tattooed over his veins, was a black skull with a twisted snake falling from its mouth. Snape had recently explained that when Voldemort fell the Dark Mark tattooed on every Death Eater's arm had faded, but now that he had returned it was as black and vivid as ever. The mark on Avery's arm was as plain as the hatred on his face.

"I imagine it hasn't been that colour in fifteen years," I said darkly, "only an idiot could fail to realise what that means, so don't tell me you don't know anything about the Dark Lord's return."

Avery pulled his sleeve back down and scowled.

"You've got balls Lupin. I'll give you that." He said. "But that wont help you when war comes. The Dark Lord has a great number of very powerful allies – you're mudblood army wont stand a chance."

With that Avery stood up.

"Now, if you excuse me I have some business to attend to." He said loudly. Avery's bodyguard stood up as well and the two of them wondered over to a wizard in a dragon hide jacket.

"So it's true then, he is back." Emmeline said gravely once he had left.

"And Avery is working for him." I added. "Come on let's go."

Emmeline and I got up and headed to the exit. We had made it to the opening of the tunnel that led back to the pub when the room suddenly went quiet behind us. I turned around and felt my heart jump up into my throat. Stood in the centre of the room facing Avery was none other than Nymphadora Tonks. Of course it would be her. She was tall today, with very short jet black hair and austere features. This was perhaps her working look. There were two other aurors stood behind her provided her support, one I recognised as John Dawlish.

"Thomas Avery?" Tonks asked severely.

"Yes." He said uncertainly.

"You are under arrest for supplying and importing illegal euphoria potions." She said.

"Do you have a warrant?" Avery spat slowing reaching for his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Tonks shouted plucking Avery's wand out of his fingers before he could curse her. "Of course I do!" She snarled as Dawlish snatched Avery's wand out of the air. Then she grabbed a pair of magical cuffs from her belt. She threw them at Avery and the metal rings magically sought out his wrists and bound them together behind his back. These handcuffs also prevented him disapparating or performing any kind of wandless magic.

"Now, you don't have to say anything, but you'll be up the creak if you don't mention when questioned something which you later rely on in front of the wizengamot..."

While Tonks told Avery his rights, I saw his eyes dart around the room exchanging glances with his peers. A murmur had started to build. I saw a couple of people draw their wands. Then that bastard Avery smashed his forehead into Tonk's face! Tonks let out an angry scream and put one hand to her face in pain.

Suddenly hexes and curses were flying everywhere. The aurors at once tried to quell the chaos while those not involved joined the fight either in confusion or just for fun. I saw Emmeline draw her wand beside me and we ran forward to help the aurors.

I fought my way towards Tonks who had jumped onto the stage. She was duelling with Avery who had somehow managed to free himself from the handcuffs and retrieve his wand. Tonks it turned out was just as talented as Jugson and Stoker had been. She was fast, and her spells were unpredictable.

Avery sent a ball of fire towards Tonks, but she held up her hands and the flames stopped in mid air.

Then with a wave of her wand she extinguished them. She hit Avery with a hex and he was flung off the stage. She looked towards me and did a double take.

"What the-" She said her mouth gaping open in shock. I heard a spell come at me from behind so I deflected it and turned around to face my opponent. I felt a flash of fear as I saw it was Jugsen himself. I duelled with him. It was just like being in a battle: I was having to invent magic on the spot to beat him. In the end I managed to trap him in a small area of frozen time, just as I had done with Ollivander when Sirius had wanted a new wand. I breathed out with relief as I inspected the frozen dueller. Then I turned back towards Tonks. She was now duelling with Avery's bodyguard at the red end of the stage. He hit her with a battering curse and she slipped off the edge. I apparated to her and caught her before she hit the floor.

"Get off me!" She shouted slightly breathlessly, slapping at my hands.

"I'm just trying to help!" I yelled back as I let her go.

"I don't need your help!" She told me with an angry glare. I saw Avery's bodyguard get ready to send a curse at her back so I yelled "Stupify!" while pointing my wand over her shoulder.

"I beg to differ." I argued. Tonks turned to look at the now unconscious man.

"Oh piss off!" She hissed. She jumped up, as Avery had reappeared behind me. While Tonks duelled with Avery, I stood with my back against hers and defended her from Avery's allies.

"I suppose you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time again huh?" She shouted over the top of the sound of spells.

"Of course." I shouted back with amusement in my voice. I aimed a hex at the man in the dragon hide jacket, but he disapparated before it hit him. Soon other people were vanishing before the aurors could restrain them, obviously anxious not to be arrested. I saw Dawlish swear and stamp his foot as someone he had been trying to get a pair of handcuffs on vanished before his eyes.

I turned around to help Tonks with Avery. I disarmed him – then Tonks threw another pair of handcuffs at him. They caught his wrists behind his back, successfully preventing him from disapparating. The foolish man made a run for the door. Tonks stepped into his path and held out one arm. As Avery ran, his throat collided with Tonks outstretched arm and with a slight choking sound he was knocked off his feet. Tonks pointed her wand at the man who glared at her from the floor.

"Petrificus Totalus!" She called paralysing the Death Eater. "This is really not going to help your defence." She told him sternly. Then she turned to me, looking utterly furious, and pointed her wand at me.

"You wouldn't?" I asked.

"Try me." She said a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Very well," I said also struggling not to smile. "Expelliarmus!"

Tonks' wand pinged from her hand. Her mouth dropped open in pure outrage, but before she could run to grab it I had taken hold of her. I spun her around and pulled her tightly against me, with my wand pointed at her neck. Then I shuffled into the shadows pulling Tonks with me.

"What the hell are you doing?" She exclaimed angrily. "You can go to Azkaban for this!"

"I'm sorry Tonks, but I can't let you arrest me again." I said quietly as I saw Dawlish point his wand at Emmeline who held her hands up in surrender.

"You're not doing a very good job of appearing innocent." Tonks exclaimed.

"Please. Can you trust me?" I whispered into her ear relaxing my hold on her slightly and lowering my wand. I saw Dawlish lower his wand as well, apparently deciding to let Emmeline go.

"Fine." Tonks said with an exasperated sigh. I let go of her and she turned towards me. It was an accident, Tonks' speciality, but because I was standing so close to her, when she turned, her face collided with mine and for a second our lips touched. She stepped back from me immediately and let out a squeaky "Oh!" of surprise. I felt like I had been electrocuted. My desire for her to be that close to me again was almost uncontrollable.

"I'm so sorry." I said at once, blushing profusely.

"Don't worry about it." She said glancing at the mouth she had softly bumped into. I stared at her for a few seconds then she looked questioningly into my eyes.

"Well?" She said with her eyebrows raised, "go on! Get out of here!" I let out a laugh and Tonks grinned.

"Thank you." I said. Then I walked over towards Emmeline, still feeling somewhat lightheaded.

The third auror was busy trying to work out how to release Jugsen from the temporal prison I had created, and Dawlish was talking into a silver pocket watch, presumably telling his superiors what had happened.

"We've got six to arrest now, friends of Avery I'm presuming. We'll transfer them to the Ministry dungeon using a portkey." Dawlish was saying.

Bram Stoker was standing by the exit talking to the wizened old man that had let us through the secret passage from the pub.

"I heard the knock and then saw them – I don't know how they knew which bottle to tap..." The old man was saying.

"Perhaps they've been watching the place." Stoker suggested.

"Maybe. What do they want with us now?" The old man asked.

"They are going to ask us some questions I think."

I reached Emmeline and she greeted me with "Ah, there you are. Come on, they are letting us go."

"Let's be quick in case they change their minds." I whispered.

"Oi you! Wait!" Dawlish suddenly yelled and I realised I had spoken too soon. "Don't I know you?"

"It's alright Dawlish, he was helping us." Tonks said, and Dawlish frowned at her. "Let him go we have enough work as it is."

Dawlish sighed with defeat and waved at me to leave. Tonks gave me a subtle wink, and before I could stop myself I grinned like an idiot. Then Emmeline squeezed my arm to get my attention.

"Back to mine for some tea?" She said merrily as if riots often broke out at unlicensed duels (maybe they did).

"Lead the way." I said and Emmeline grasped my arm again before disapparating, taking me with her.


	49. Thicker Than Water

Thanks for the reviews guys, I appreciate it :) I worry sometimes that I should really be writing philosophy or trying to get a job rather than writing this, but it's so addictive! If you like reading the story though, then I guess it's a worthwhile pursuit.

**49 Thicker That Water**

Emmeline Vance was more than happy to join into the Order of the Phoenix. Her first Order meeting was held on the 26th of July when the weather was starting to reach record levels for heat and humidity. Sirius and I had actually broken open the garden room doors, which had almost fused together as a result of the ivy that had grown over them, so that we could sit in the Black's horrendously overgrown garden with some iced butterbeer. The Order, most of them anyway, had gathered in the dining room of Grimmauld place; and while the giant spiders that lived in the china cabinets lurked in the shadows, Dumbledore and his supporters discussed Death Eater movement, diplomatic missions, Voldemort's plans and how best we could thwart them. Towards the end of the meeting I explained what had happened at the Sleezy Wench.

"The aurors were there to arrest Avery?" Asked Dedalus Diggle, his violet top hat threatening to wobble right off his small head.

"Yes, for selling ilegal potions." Kingsley Shacklebolt answered for me. Kingsley was a recent addition to the order – a very valuable one too. Kingsley was head of the hunt for Sirius and after learning that he was innocent was able to steer his team off course – by rather a long way: aurors were currently looking for Sirius in Tibet.

"Dawlish's team have been investigating Avery for months." Kingsley continued. "We've long suspected he was the one supplying the dangerous potions that are damaging the lives of many young witches and wizards. Nymphadora Tonks has spent weeks posted at the Sleezy Wench disguised as a hag watching him –" That explains the witch with the hooked nose... "– she mentioned the other week that she though he's involved with muggle attacks."

"We've long known he was a Death Eater." Mad-Eye added gruffly.

"Harry said he was at the graveyard in Little Hangleton." Dumbledore reminded us. "No doubt his arrest will cause a great annoyance to Voldemort. I only fear that with so many of his supporters in Azkaban – or soon to be – Voldemort might try to break them out. Kingsley, can we be sure that the Dementors of Azkaban are still under Ministry control?"

"It is difficult to say Albus." Kingsley replied seriously. "They are difficult creatures to communicate with, but we've found no evidence to suggest that anyone external to the Ministry has been in contact with them."

"How many did they arrest in the end?" Dedalus then asked me.

"Six, including Jugsen."

"You are lucky Miss Tonks convinced Dawlish to let you go – you may not have done anything wrong, but being a werewolf...they would surely have arrested you anyway." Minerva McGonagall said giving me a sympathetic look.

"Yes I did worry about that." I told her. "I thought Miss Tonks was going to arrest me herself actually, but, er, she trusts me I think."

"Ah, perhaps you should try recruiting her then." Moody said pointing a gnarled finger at me, while his magical eye remained fixed on the china cabinet. "I tried, but she was hesitant to believe me."

"Really?" I questioned, as to me Tonks always seemed like an ideal Order member.

"Needed time to think she said." Moody told me, with a slight shrug. I bit my lip while I thought, and Kingsley assured us that it wouldn't be long before more aurors were joining as most of them were sharp, principled people who wouldn't reject the truth just because it was frightening as Fudge had.

"Avery mentioned an oncoming war." I added after a short pause. "And that Voldemort has powerful allies already."

"Who did he mean?" Asked Arthur Weasley.

"I don't know...he may mean politically powerful people, or he may mean magically powerful people – the giants perhaps, or vampires..." I suggested, then I sighed, "what's clear though is that his army is getting stronger."

"Which means ours should too." Sirius interjected passionately.

"We need to recruit more Ministry officials." Dedalus declared. "They have a huge number of men at their disposal, we need their support."

"We need to start tracking down the Death Eaters – we need to take apart his army before it gets too big." Sturgis Podmore claimed slamming his hand down on the polished wooden table.

"Voldemort needs more than a large army to beat us." I said calmly. "You forget, we still have the prophecy, we still have Harry...and we still have a cause worth fighting for."

The Order looked as me with skeptical expressions.

"Voldemort recruits supporters using fear." I continued. "_Our_ army is held together by shared values, and a desire to do what is right – for that reason our army will always be stronger. Every one of our soldiers is worth ten of his, because we believe in what we are fighting for."

"Well said." Arthur Weasley commented with a smile and I noticed Dumbledore's eyes twinkling – a sure sign of approval. I tried not to blush.

"True, Remus, but it wouldn't hurt to have a few more on our side." Moody added with a grin, and I let out a quiet laugh. The meeting continued with a report from Bill on his attempts to get the goblins on our side, and once he had finished Dumbledore concluded the meeting. Dumbledore left first, followed shortly by Moody. It had taken some persuasion on Dumbledore's part, but Moody had agreed to become the new defence against the dark arts teacher. However, seeing as the last time he agreed to do it he ended up being trapped in his own trunk for nine months, Moody was taking no chances this time. He had upped the security on his house and I think he had even taken to sleeping in his closet just in case someone tried to kidnap him while he slept. No doubt Moody was heading back early to test all of his food for poison before he made himself dinner.

Next to leave were McGonagall, Dedalus and Snape who made sure he shot a hateful glance at Sirius and I before he disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.

"Git." Sirius muttered under his breath.

"I have to admit, I thought he'd make a bit more of an effort," I commented casually getting up from my seat and leaning against the dining room table as Sirius was. "You are doing quite well."

"Thank you, Remus." Sirius said, "the swig of Dung's homemade vodka I had before the meeting really helped. It's bloody strong stuff, I only had a tiny bit but I still feel a bit drunk."

"Yes, well if you are going to drink a beverage made by someone who thinks that alcohol poisoning is adding arsenic to wine..."

We bid goodbye to the amateur distiller, and then Emmeline and Strugis. Next to say goodbye was Kingsley.

"Until next time Sirius." He said in his booming voice.

"Kingsley." Sirius said shaking the man's hand. Kingsley then turned to me with a sly smile on his face that made me feel quiet nervous.

"My sister has decided to join the Order Remus." He said. "I believe you know her."

"Diana Shacklebolt?" I said plainly. I could feel Sirius's mischievous eyes boring a hole in the side of my skull, and I silently begged for him not to say anything to embarrass me.

"Yes." Kingsley confirmed.

"Yes, I worked for her for a year." I told Kingsley.

"Mm. She said, and I quote, you were 'very thorough'." Kingsley said with a raised eyebrow.

_Please don't hex me_, I thought and I heard Sirius fail to suppress an undignified snort.

"I hope she was referring to your work." Kingsley added, looking vaguely amused. I gave a somewhat nervous laugh and fiddled with the collar of my shirt. Kingsley laughed and slapped my shoulder with enough force to knock the air out of me. Without any further explanation Kingsley left while I caught my breath and massaged my shoulder.

"Very thorough eh?" Sirius teased.

"Shut up." I hissed.

"Remus?" Said Arthur Weasley suddenly.

"Yes?" I said turning around to face him.

"I forgot to mention – there is a charity ball in September, the Society for Wizard and Muggle Peacefulness, or SWAMP, are holding it. Trying to raise awareness about muggles, encourage witches and wizards to take a bit more of an interest in their culture and technology – that sort of thing. Thought you might be interested."

"Are you sure a werewolf would be welcome?" I asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that. Most people there wont even know." Arthur said dodging the question. "They'll know you as the man who wrote 'Consciousness and Magic' because that's how I'll introduce you."

I smiled, feeling touched that Arthur remembered the title of my book.

"In that case I'd be delighted," I said. "It's a good idea: we could counter some of the muggle-hate the Death Eaters have been spreading."

"Exactly – we might even find some potential new Order members." Added Arthur brightly. "I can't quite remember the date...some time in September. Next time I see you, I'll let you know."

The Weasleys were the last to leave, so Sirius and I followed them to the front door so that we could lock it behind them.

"Coming for dinner Bill?" I heard Molly ask Bill as we walked towards the door.

"Can't tonight mum." Bill replied.

"I'm doing roast pork."

"I've got a date." Bill explained.

"A date? Who with?"

"A girl from work."

"A girl from work." Molly repeated with a tut of disapproval. "I'll need a few more details than that."

"She's called Paulette, likes quidditch and has a belly button piercing."

"A belly button piercing?" Molly exclaimed. From the expression on her face you would be forgiven for thinking Bill had just said his date had a shaved head with 'kills dolphins for fun' tattooed to the back of it. "Oh, Bill, can't you find a nice sensible girl?" Molly added and Bill just smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Leave him be Molly." Arthur advised kindly.

"I just want what's best for my children." Molly returned, but soon her cheeks had paled as clearly she had reminded herself of Percy.

We reached the front door and I noticed crusty dewy stains on the wallpaper beside it, a clear sign of bundimum growing back.

"Sirius you said you'd clean this." I remarked, gesturing to the weird mould-like marks.

"What?" said Sirius glancing at the stains. "That's Krecher's job." He added with an apathetic shrug.

"Didn't we establish that Krecher is useless?" I replied. "You said you sort out the drawing room as well – Sturgis went in there the other day to smoke his pipe and came out five minutes later practically in tears. We've got to get rid of that stuff in the cabinets."

"I know! And I'll get to it," Sirius defended, "I'm still trying to get the rug on the second landing to stop tripping people up."

"How did you manage to live here with all these curses everywhere?" Bill asked and Sirius and I turned to look at him at the same time.

"Laziness sort of outweighs fear of curses." Sirius replied with a shrug.

"Why don't I bring the kids over one day to help you clean the place up?" Molly then suggested.

"It will take longer than a day I think," he said.

"Well what about moving in here for a week or two? It will give them something to do-" continued Molly.

"-And you'd have a bit more company." I added. Sirius smiled sarcastically at me: he obviously wasn't enthusiastic about having to share his space with a brood of teenagers. While I could understand his sentiments, I actually thought Molly had struck gold: Sirius was dying of boredom in the house by himself, Molly needed something to keep her mind off Percy, if Harry came to stay he would surely be pleased to have his friends about, and the house did need tackling and who better to take on the house of Black than an army of Weasleys? Sirius took a little more convincing before he admitted that letting the Weasleys stay was a good idea; apparently he was slightly worried it would dammage his credibility when arguing with Snape ("he'll think I'm drafting in aid"). But eventually he agreed to let the Weasley's move in after the weekend.

After having dinner with Sirius I flooed back to my home in Ireland. Although I was practically living in Grimmauld Place these days, I needed a night at home: for one thing, I had run out of underwear, and for another I wanted to do some work and it was rather difficult to work in Grimmauld Place with Sirius interrupting me every five minutes with a new idea for tormenting Mrs Black. I arrived in my living room and immediately noticed what a tip it was. The desk at the far end was consumed by a tsunami of books an papers that spilled onto the floor around it, there were half-drunk cups of tea going stagnant on every available surface and the sofa had become a semi-permanent resting place for all my laundry. I felt a stab of sadness as I imagined how appalled my mother would have been to see the living room in such disarray. I ran one hand through my hair and stepped out of the fire place. I took out my wand and waved it over the pile of clean but unfolded laundry. The clothes folded and arranged themselves into a neat pile. I would still have to iron the shirts, but at least when they were in a pile it didn't look like such a huge job. Then I charmed all the cups of tea to float towards the kitchen where they would wait patiently in the sink for me to clean them.

I traversed to my desk and sat in the creaky wooden chair, the cliff of books and papers looming in front of me. I had just begun the rather daunting task of separating the research I had done for the Order from the research I had done for the library when I heard someone sneeze behind me. I jumped to my feet. I held my wand towards the figure in my fireplace who was obscured by a cloud of soot. In some quiet corner of my mind I reasoned that it was unlikely for someone who wanted to kill me to arrive at my house using floo power – they would also surely take pains not to give themselves away with a sneeze. I lowered my wand, and as the soot dissipated I saw that the figure in my fireplace was Tonks. Apparently she had hit her head on my mantle as she arrived, which had caused the sooty shower.

"Wotcher." She coughed.

"Good evening Tonks," I put away my wand and smiled warmly at her. "Come in." She stepped out of my fireplace and brushed the soot off her clothes. She was wearing a skirt today, which was short at the front but long at the back, and some hefty leather boots, lest she look too feminine perhaps. I had never seen her in a skirt before, but I'll admit I rather liked it: Tonks had a very beautiful pair of legs. I forced myself to look at her face, but as her face was every bit as beautiful, changing the direction of my gaze did nothing to ease the fluttering in my chest. Her hair was short today, and white-blonde, and interesting contrast to her tanned skin.

Tonks looked at me, and nervously fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. My smile faded as I sensed her discomfort: had something happened? Was she in trouble?

"May I inquire as to the purpose of this visit?" I asked gently.

"I want..." Tonks began timidly, her eyes wandering over my untidy living room, "I want to talk to you."

"Right." I said, feeling confused. Tonks continued to stand awkwardly in front of the fireplace examining the room as if she had been duty bound to remember evert detail of it. I watched her bright blue eyes fix on the moth-eaten armchair under the window, then the picture of the beach my mother had painted, then the towers of books on my desk.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked politely breaking the silence. Tonks nodded, and I led the way to the kitchen. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I made sure to stand in front of the collection of dirty teacups piled up in the kitchen sink. However, Tonks was clever enough to work out what I was hiding, she smirked slightly and pulled out one of my kitchen chairs so that she could sit down.

"Don't worry – my flat is worse." She said, moving to sit down. She missed the chair, and almost fell, but apparently she was practised at this kind of mishap, so grabbed the table and righted herself before I needed to catch her.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Fine." She replied impatiently, her cheeks blushing pink. She sat down and muttered "nice one Tonks" to herself. I made some tea while Tonks inspected my kitchen.

"The house is really different." She said when I sat at the table opposite her with the teapot and two mugs. "It feels much more like you. A bit scruffy, but interesting."

I grinned, "scruffy but interesting, I like that. When were you here before though?" I added as I poured her some tea.

"Ages ago," Tonks said, "when I was writing my dissertation, I came here looking for you."

"Oh yes. Gosh that was a long time ago. Five years?"

"Yeah. You weren't in, so your mother made me tea." Tonks said and we exchanged smiles. "My mum told me that she passed away." Tonks added regarding me with sympathy.

"Er, yes." I said not really sure what to say. "I didn't realise you had tea with her."

"Mm. She told me all about what you were like when you were little." Said Tonks as she added milk to her tea.

"Oh dear." I said with a grimace.

"She said you were always playing lets pretend games." Tonks said smiling. "One day you were a pirate, the next you were a dashing prince, then a warlock, then – oh what else...? A roman centurion..."

"Yes, I commanded a legion of a hundred men, and quelled many rebellions." I joked and Tonks laughed.

"Didn't have many playmates then?" She teased.

"Sadly not." I told her with a wry smile. "Being what I am...well, my childhood was quite isolated."

"Was that because other parents didn't want their children to play with you?"

"Partly, though only my family really knew what I was. The main reason was just that I was ill so much of the time. Most children with lycanthropy die before they reach puberty either from injuries sustained during the full moon, or just because their bodies can't cope with the transformations."

Tonks gave me another look of pathos. Although I knew she was being kind, I felt irritated: I didn't want her to pity me.

"I didn't have that many playmates either – not when I was very young." Tonks admitted sipping her tea. "When I moved to Paris I made a few more friends."

"I really wanted a little brother or sister," she explained, "but when I was a baby my aunt put a curse on my mother that said that if she had anymore children I would die."

"Was this Bellatrix?" I asked.

"No, not her," said Tonks, "Narcissa. Narcissa Malfoy." I didn't know Narcissa, but anyone married to as supercilious a pureblood fanatic as Lucius Malfoy was surely not a nice person.

"My mum and Narcissa used to get on okay when they were children. Narcissa used to be kind of afraid of Bellatrix you see, so she looked to my mother for protection. They became less close when they went to school and got put in different houses. My mum was in Hufflepuff like me, and she had a lot of muggle-born friends, which kind of divided her from the rest of her family, who all thought muggle-borns were scum."

As Tonks spoke of her maternal grandparents her voice was laced with the same disdain and shame that Sirius spoke with whenever he talked about his family. Like Sirius, Tonks obviously resented being related to the Blacks. Perhaps that was another reason why she preferred to be known by her father's name: to demonstrate her pride in her muggle-born heritage.

"When my mum married my dad that was the last straw. My grandparents disowned my mum, and her whole family, including Narcissa, stopped talking to her. When my mum had me, she tried to make up with Narcissa, she invited her to my naming day and everything. It completely backfired though. She and my mum had a huge fight and Narcissa ended up cursing my mum. My dad reckons Narcissa was jealous of the fact that my mum had had a baby and she hadn't – Narcissa and Malfoy had been trying for ages you see.

"I don't really think that Narcissa has the skill to pull off a curse like that. But my parents didn't want to risk it, so they didn't have any more children after me."

Tonks took another swig of tea, then rubbed her thumb against her lips as she thought.

"I had a pretend little brother and a pretend little sister." She said and I smiled. "They were twins called Asha – after the witch in the Fair Fortune story – and Yussarian, just 'cos I thought it was a cool name. Asha was good – she would eat my vegetables when I didn't want them, much to the irritation of my parents. And Yussarian was naughty, so whenever something in the house got broken while I was playing – it was Yussarian."

I chuckled as I imagined a mischievous young Tonks trying to blame a broken vase on her invisible friend.

"You're handsome when you laugh." Tonks said after a relaxed pause, and I stared at her somewhat perplexed: she thought I was handsome? But wasn't I 'trop vieux' for her? In response to my look of befuddlement, Tonks just gave me a teasing smile and drank her tea, leaving me even more confused.

"How is the investigation coming?" I asked changing the topic.

"Alright. Avery and his accomplices are in Azkaban while they wait for their trial." Tonks replied and I nodded even though I already knew this. "We've got enough evidence to put him away for selling, but we're having trouble locating a witness, so we might not get him for importing – though we _know_ he's guilty."

"That is frustrating." I agreed and Tonks nodded. "Thank you for letting me go, by the way." I added sincerely.

"Ah, you weren't really doing anything wrong." Tonks said with a shrug. "You were there working for Dumbledore again weren't you? As a spy." She added with suspicious eyes.

I licked my lips, "er, in a manner of speaking," I admitted.

"You're not very good." Tonks accused a sparkle in her eyes.

"Am I not?" I returned, very much enjoying the way she was looking at me.

"You keep getting caught."

"By you."

"Yeah well, I'm a good auror."

"Without a doubt."

It pleased me immensely to see that just like me, Tonks couldn't take the flirtatiously impudent smile off her face.

"And er, sorry I er, almost kissed you." She said, not sure whether she should snigger or blush.

"Oh. That's alright." I said, then I added somewhat riskily: "It was rather nice."

Tonks cocked an eyebrow, "yeah, well don't expect me to be falling into your face every day."

"That's a terrible shame." I said with marauder-esque cheek, and Tonks laughed. I finished my tea and paused for a few moments.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked warmly, and Tonks' expression slowly became serious.

"Alastor Moody came to see me yesterday." Tonks began and I clocked at once what this was about.

"Oh."

"You know why?" Tonks asked. I didn't realise I was so transparant.

"No." I lied.

"He told me about the Order of the Phoenix."

"Did he?"

"He wants me to join." Tonks told me. "You are a member, aren't you? Your work for Dumbledore – it's work you do as part of the Order isn't it?" She added seeing through my lies.

I paused then admitted the truth: "yes it is."

"So you believe what Dumbledore has said, about you-know-who?" Tonks eyes suddenly seemed much bluer, and so deep, like there was a vast landscape hidden behind them.

"Yes." I said solemnly.

"Everyone at work – they said it was not true, that Dumbledore and Harry were making it up." Tonks told me. "I wanted to believe them. I still want to believe them."

"But you don't?" I questioned. "I mean...you believe Dumbledore?"

Tonks bit her lip and looked away from me, "yes. I wish it wasn't true, but all the signs are there. People going missing, muggles being killed..."

Tonks looked back at me. "I want to join." She said. "I just wanted to...see what you thought first."

"What _I_ thought?"

"Yeah, you always seem the voice of reason..." Tonks shrugged and I struggled to understand why she trusted me, why she trusted a werewolf she hardly knew. What could she see in me that others couldn't?

"There's something else you should know, I don't know if Moody told you." I began cautiously. "About Sirius Black."

"Sirius Black?" Tonks repeated, frowning. "The Death Eater?"

"He's not a Death Eater."

"What?"

I then proceeded to tell Tonks the whole story: how Sirius was framed by Peter, how Peter had hidden disguised as a rat while Sirius was in Azkaban, how I had discovered the truth while teaching at Hogwarts, and how I had spent the last year helping to protect my oldest friend.

"Sirius has offered his family home as Order headquarters," I told a very shocked Tonks, "there is an Order meeting in a few days, if I can get the secret keeper to induct you, then you'll meet him."

"He's been innocent all this time?" Tonks breathed, and I nodded, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, because I thought you would have assumed Sirius had confounded me and arrested me...again." Tonks gave me a very Sirius-like sarcastic grin. Then she leant back in her chair and folded her arms.

"This is so weird. I've hated him for so long. It must be Hell for him to know that almost everyone thinks he's a betraying murdering mad man."

"He does find it difficult sometimes." I said. "It's a bit better now that the Order knows the truth. And he'll be glad that the daughter of his favourite cousin knows."

"What will I say to him?"

"If you like, I can take you to the meeting a bit early, so you can meet him before the others arrive."

Tonks agreed to do as I suggested, so that weekend I met her outside her flat in Camden. As Gimmauld Place was actually only a ten minute walk from where Tonks lived, it made much more sense for me to meet her there than for her to floo to Ireland only to apparate back to London. Tonks lived in a studio flat on the top floor of a victorian muggle residence, although her landlord, she informed me, was a witch. I didn't get to see her flat however, as as soon as I arrived at about six thirty, she came flying through the front door a bowl of pasta in her hand. She slammed the door behind her and jumped down the last two steps to the street. She was dressed in charcoal coloured jeans with rips at the knees, and a Pretenders T-shirt. Her hair I was very pleased to see was short and bubble-gum pink. She smiled broadly at me.

"Shit." She suddenly said.

"Nice to see you too." I joked.

"I forgot my key." She explained. "The land lady doesn't like me using magic, she says 'cos it's a muggle-made door, magic wears out the lock. I've told her a thousand times that's bollocks, but she's old, she's set in her ways."

"I see." I commented mildly as Tonks shoved a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

"Sorry about this, I forgot you were coming and I made dinner for myself." She explained with her mouth full, which far from being repulsive was oddly endearing.

"You don't need to rush, I'll wait for you to finish it if you like." I said.

"No, it's cool I'll eat it as we go." She said, gesturing with her fork for me to lead the way. I chuckled but did as I was told. It was a pleasant walk from Tonk's flat to Grimmauld place, the evening sun guiding our way. We chatted about how we had spent the last few days, how Cornilius Fudge who had started out quiet liberal was becoming more and more right wing every day, and about how her father had taken up broomstick making as a hobby ("mum hates it because there are sticks all over the house and he hasn't been able to make a single one of them fly, it's hilarious to watch them bicker about it"). Although I still worried about how much I wanted to take her hand in mine while we walked, I couldn't be unhappy while I was with her.

When we arrived at Grimmauld place, I watched number twelve pushed apart its neighbours, but due to the fidelus charm placed on it, Tonks still couldn't see it. She stared expectantly at number 11 and number 13, then at me. I smiled and handed her a small piece of parchment.

"Read that, and memorise it." I told her. She unfolded the piece of paper and read Dumbledore's message which divulged the location of the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. Once Tonks had memorised the message she gave the parchment back to me and with a tap of my wand, I destroyed it. Then I saw Tonks start to smile as number twelve began to appear for her. Within a few minutes she could see what I could, and we made our way to the front door.

"This is where Sirius grew up?" She asked as we paused in front of the door, I nodded and held my wand to the door. "Oh a doorbell!" Tonks exclaimed reaching for the rusting button.

"No!" I said quickly grabbing her wrist before she touched it. Tonks with drew her hand and looked sheepish. "There is a portrait of Sirius' mother hanging in the hallway and if she hears people entering the house she starts screaming insults at them – it's not pleasant, so we try to avoid disturbing her."

"I see." Tonks said a little nervously. I tapped the door with my wand. A few seconds later it opened and Tonks got her first glimpse of the ancient and desperately dusty house of Black. I gestured for her to step inside and with nervous excitement she did. The house was quiet apart from the sound of piano playing coming from upstairs. Sirius had recently taken to bashing out boogie woogie on the old piano in the drawing room whenever he felt like making some noise. Fortunately however, Sirius was a very good piano player: piano lessons were the only thing his parents made him do that he didn't completely regret. Although as a form of protest he refused to play classical music, as that had been what he had been forced to play when he was younger; except when he was angry, when he would sometimes play Beethoven. Tonks looked up in the direction of the sound as she walked towards the staircase.

"Who's that playing?" She whispered.

"That's Sirius." I replied with a grin. Tonks smiled too and mouthed 'wow'. Unfortunately because she wasn't looking where she was going, her foot collided with the trolls leg umbrella stand that sat in the hallway. I rushed forward and caught Tonks before she hit the floor, but not before she had let out a scream. I groaned as the noise caused Mrs Black to stir from her uneasy sleep. The curtains we had covered her with flung open and she stared in fury at the pink-haired witch in my arms.

"WHAT NEW VERMIN BEFOULS THE HOME OF MY ANCESTORS?" She screamed. Tonks stood up straight, drew her wand and pointed it at the ugly painting. "AH! YOU INSOLENT CHILD! DO NOT POINT THAT AT ME!"

"What in the hell?" Tonks murmured as the painting continued to scream at her.

"That's the portrait I warned you about." I explained quickly. Sirius suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at his irate mother and then to the woman who had woken her. He looked surprised for a few moments but then his face split into a happy grin.

"Nymphadora!" He exclaimed.

"NYMPHADORA! NYMPHADORA!" Mrs Black screamed and I saw Tonks wince at the sound of her name being shouted at a hundred decibels. "THE FREAKISH CHILD OF THE MUDBLOOD THAT SEDUCED MY NIECE! HOW DARE YOU ENTER THIS HOUSE YOU ABOMINATION!"

"Ignore her Tonks." I said quickly.

"For Merlin's sake shut up!" Sirius shouted at his mother before jumping forward to pull the curtains over her. Once she was covered Mrs Black's shouts soon quietened. Sirius stood in front of the portrait and turned to face his second cousin.

"I've never been called an abomination before." Tonks remarked as she put away her wand.

"Er, yeah, sorry about that." Sirius said with an awkward smile. "You'll be happy to know that she is burning in hell as we speak." Tonks almost laughed.

"Anyway! Little Nymphadora!" Sirius continued excitedly. "You know the last time I saw you, you said when you grew up you were going to marry me." He added with a suggestive smirk.

Tonks pulled a face, "ew," she said, "that's, like, incest."

"Yeah, but you were only about four." Sirius explained with a shrug. "You used to insist that you sit next to me at dinner. It was very cute."

Tonks suppressed a snort of laughter and looked at me with a questioning expression.

"Yes he is like this all the time." I replied with a grin. I saw Sirius roll his eyes.

"Ignore the boring one and come and have a butterbeer." Sirius said pulling Tonks towards the stairs.

"You know, I prefer to be called Tonks." Tonks told as Sirius led her down to the kitchen.

"Oh but Nymphadora is so wonderfully weird!" I heard Sirius argue. "It doesn't even sound like a real name."

"That's exactly why I hate it! Now I'll let that one slide, but if you use my first name again, I will have to turn your nose into a cauliflower."

As I listened to Sirius' bark-like laughter, I smiled to myself and followed them to the kitchen. There could be no doubt that Sirius and his little cousin would soon be tremendous friends.


	50. You Take My Life

Sorry this update has taken a while, my computer broke :( Thanks so much for the reviews, they really make my day. I really love writing as Lupin, but the chapters are getting so difficult! I'm sure it's Tonks' fault. Writing her and Lupin's relationship is so tricky! There is so much going on in his head, and in hers, and I'm trying to convey it all without being too obvious about it while at the same time trying to develop her character and stick to the book five plot and it's just so difficult! I don't think I'm doing a very good job – this chapter especially I don't really like. Maybe I'm just trying too hard...

**50 You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live**

I got to spend a lot of time with Tonks over the next week. She usually stayed after Order meetings to spend time with Sirius and I, and on the evenings where there wasn't an Order meeting she would come over to 'help with the cleaning' and then spend most of the time in the kitchen with Sirius and I listening to the wireless whilst drinking wine and making jokes. As I predicted, she got on very well with Sirius. They shared the same wicked sense of humour. In fact, she seemed to like Sirius so much that I felt a little jealous. I didn't want her to see me as the boring one! So I made an effort to be as funny as him. In the end, this strangely competitive dynamic between the three of us worked rather well: it forestalled my natural diffidence so that I found myself conversing with her quite freely, and most nights ended with the three of us crying with laughter over something ridiculous.

The only negative consequence of these incredibly enjoyable evenings was the revelation that Tonks

was so much more than the woman I dreamt about. She was so much more complex and so much more perfect. Just dreaming about her wasn't enough for me anymore. I needed to know her. I needed to know her passions and ideas; and I wanted her to know mine, I wanted her to know me. Hardly a thought went by where I didn't also think about telling it to Tonks. I realise how this sounds, but I am _trying_ to keep my interest my in her platonic. I solemnly swear.

Other changes that had occurred during the week included the occupation of the Weasleys. It was strange to hear the sound of chattering teenagers as I walked through the gloomy corridors of number twelve, rather than the angry whispers of the portraits, but it was without a doubt a thousand times more pleasant. Molly and the children (including Hermione) had already tackled the bedroom on the third floor, which was now Molly and Arthur's bedroom, and the box room which, after Sirius had transfigured a small desk into a pair of bunk-beds, had become Fred and George's room. Today, the third of August, they were working on the library and the bedrooms on the second floor. As I entered number twelve I could hear Hermione's aggravated voice echo down the stairs.

"Ron! Will you _please_ stop getting in my way! You are going to get Magical Mess Remover all over me!"

"I'm just trying to help you, you big bossy b-"

"Finish that sentence, go on Ronald, I dare you!"

I sniggered and added to the mental tally of spats Hermione and Ron had had. Seeing as my afternoon had suddenly become free, I decided to offer the kids my assistance, but first I needed to find Sirius.

"Sirius, you about?" I called after I had passed Mrs Black. I waited a few moments then I saw Sirius' heard appear at the bottom of the stairs that led to the kitchen.

"Remus? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?" He asked, and I gave a sour grunt in response.

"Oh. Oh dear." Sirius said realising what my being home in the middle of the day meant. He retreated back into the kitchen and I slowly made my way down the stone steps to join him. Sirius was sat at the kitchen table behind a selection of open books and parchment bearing his scribbled notes, which was an unusual place to find him. I inspected the books and found that Sirius was researching dark magic. I gave a small smile. I had suggested that Sirius carry out this important bit of research for the Order a few months ago but never seriously thought he would get out his books and actually do the work. It was testament to how much he wanted to be useful.

"I don't know how you are able to just sit for hours on end doing stuff like this." Sirius said gesturing at the books. "I've only been at this for an hour and it's driving me insane. All I want to do is go out into the Garden and transfigure the plants into things I can chase."

I smirked as I read Sirius' notes over his shoulder. Apparently he had been looking for methods of fighting the Avada Kedavra.

"I wanted to work in the library, but Molly's cleaning it." Sirius said, picking up his wand and summoning the whiskey.

"We already did that room." I said as a bottle of amber liquid darted out of a cupboard along with a small glass.

"We didn't clean it thoroughly enough apparently," Sirius said with a petulant glare, "Molly said she found rat droppings on the window sills." Sirius poured himself a whiskey and took a swig.

"You wont be able to drink whiskey in the middle of the day when Harry gets here. You're supposed to be a role model." I told him seriously, and Sirius laughed.

"A role model, me..." He said with disbelief putting the whiskey glass down with a muffled clink. "Anyway, when is Harry getting here? As I see it, never. It's perfectly safe here for him and we've still not got the go ahead from Dumbledore. Harry wrote to me again today, practically begging me to tell him what is going on. Why does Dumbledore want to keep Harry isolated?"

"I don't know." I said sympathetically as I sat down opposite him. "Dumbledore keeps us all in the dark. Sometimes I wonder if that's really the best strategy. I mean, the more minds working on a problem the better right? But, then again, Dumbledore never does anything without thought – if he wants Harry to stay with the Dursleys there must be a reason."

"If I were given a choice between being safe and unhappy, and happy but in danger, I'd definitely choose the latter. So would Harry, and you know what, I'm betting so would Dumbledore." Sirius argued, the lines around his eyes suddenly quite noticeable. "Harry needs to be here."

"I've had some ideas about how we could transport him," I said in an attempt to be positive, "we'll need a small surveillance group, and then I reckon about six people to guard him as we fly back."

"Fly back?"

"Yes, I think Arthur's idea of using brooms is the only way to do it."

"You should probably have a secondary guard. Just in case something happens." Sirius advised with a sombre expression on his face that didn't really suit him.

"Yes, the surveillance group could do that as well."

"I assume I wont be able to help." Sirius added with a bitter look back at the notes he had made.

"Sorry Sirius, if you were spotted in Surry..." I told him gently, Sirius rolled his eyes and drank some more whiskey.

"Anyway, why did they fire you this time?" He asked. I took the whiskey from Sirius's hand and finished it for him. Sirius gave me his signature sarcastic grin as I set the empty glass on the table between us.

"Because I am a danger to society." I said, my voice uncharacteristically dark. I felt very wolfish today. Normally the wolf is just a cruel voice in my head, but today I could feel him living in my body, wearing my skin. It was frightening how much more like him I felt when I was angry.

"Is that what they said?" Sirius asked frowning to express his sympathy.

"Those exact words." I replied as I stared at the rusting cauldron by the sink.

"Look, don't worry." I heard Sirius say, "The Order wont mind you dipping into the expense account, and remember Bill got the Goblins to write off your mortgage, so you don't have to worry about losing the house anymore."

"I know." I responded. "It's not that I'm worried." I paused and scratched the back of my head wondering how much I should confess.

"It's...a pride thing." I admitted eventually. "I feel humiliated. You should have heard that bastard woman."

"Who?"

"Delores Umbridge. Her anti-werewolf enactments are making it harder and harder for me to find work. I can't work unless I'm taking wolfsbane, I can't work anywhere were people feel threatened by me – which is everywhere! It doesn't seem to matter that for 27 days of the moon's cycle I am a completely normal human being, as far as she is concerned werewolves are dangerous and should be ostracised.

"She came to the library to fire me herself."

"Umbridge did?"

"Yes. She is a power-hungry sadist." I spat. "People like her are the reason the Ministry is so profoundly inept."

"Wow she must be bad, you don't hate anyone." Sirius remarked with a raised eyebrow. "What did she say?"

So I recounted the story to Sirius. I had spent most of the morning carrying out my work as usual. I had finished summarising several research papers on transfiguration and written an essay on the flaws of current research methods, so I started a new project: the impact of emotions on magical ability. It was astonishingly interesting. I was in my office reading an article on why happiness and anger increase a wizard or witch's power whereas depression reduces or even abolishes it, when I was interrupted. The unwelcome visiter was Mr Walters. He instructed me, with a very solemn expression, to come to his office. I questioned him of course as we traversed the grand corridor's of the library, but he didn't tell me very much. However, I gleaned enough from his tone of voice to realise that I was going to be sacked. What I didn't understand was why he was collecting me, like he was a prefect sent to fetch a wayward student by an angry headmaster. It all became clear when I reached his office and saw a short plump woman, dressed in lilac tweed, sitting behind Mr Walter's desk sipping tea.

When we entered she smiled at me in an oddly sinister way, while Mr Walters, looking almost apologetic, shuffled towards the window. I looked at him accusingly but he avoided my eyes. Obviously his power had been stripped away by the small woman sitting in front of me.

"Mr Lupin." She said in her quiet high pitched voice. I said nothing, so she added "please sit down." I sat in the wooden chair on the other side of the desk. I continued my defiant silence and was pleased to find that it unnerved Umbridge. She shot me a dark look then cleared her throat with that irritating little cough of hers.

"We have recently learnt that you are no longer taking appropriate medication for your condition." She informed me. I remained silent for a while, just to annoy her, then I spoke in my calm but perpetually hoarse voice.

"Regrettably that is true." I said. "Since Libatius Borage died, I've not been able to attain any wolfsbane."

"Well, the law states that unless a werewolf is medicated, you cannot work for an organisation that provides a public service as you are, uh, a danger to society." Umbridge paused after her announcement and then gave a smile that didn't hide her satisfaction. Umbridge lifted her tea cup back to her lips and took a sip. The unpleasant sound of her sucking the tea through her pursed lips was the loudest thing in the room.

"The law says I should be dismissed if I present a danger – am I ever in the library during a full moon? No. So I do not present a danger." I argued, hoping that despite it's subtleness, Umbridge could hear my anger. She put her tea cup back in its saucer and looked severely at me.

"Recent research has shown that, when unmedicated, werewolves can be dangerous, even in their human form."

"What research?" I responded my voice rising. "That is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry Remus." Mr Walters suddenly interjected. "I told you people were starting to guess – someone must have reported you."

"Indeed they did." Umbridge said, her voice suddenly bolder. "They were worried for their safety. So I'm afraid Mr Lupin I shall have to ask you to pack your things and leave the library at once."

I stood up. "Am I not a good librarian?" I said to Mr Walters. "My last client – he said I had done tremendous work. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Mr Lupin," Umbridge said standing up herself and walking around her desk so that she could face me. "Unless you want to be forcefully escorted off the premises. I suggest you do as you're told."

I stared down at the squat woman. She had come all this way just to fire me – why? Was she pursuing some sort of vendetta against me because I had slipped through her fingers after Tonks had caught me in Germany, and again when I appealed to be released from the Ministry's surveillance? Or was it just because I was one of very few werewolves who wasn't living on the outskirts of society and Umbridge wanted to rectify that?

"It is also my duty to tell you that since you are unmedicated," Umbridge added, "you will need to be kept in one of the Ministry's secure facilities -" What? That was nonsense! Amelia Bones had said, at my appeal months ago, that it was no longer necessary for me to be kept at the Ministry during full moons, regardless of whether I was taking medication or not.

"I will do no such thing." I told Umbridge.

"If you don't want to use our facilities, you should be taking wolfsbane."

"As I have already said, Libatius Borage is dead, so attaining wolfsbane is impossible for me."

"You could import it from abroad."

"I do not have the resources to do that! Which is hardly surprising when your laws keep getting me fired." I said, the anger in my voice now undeniable. "If the Ministry is adamant that I should be taking wolfsbane then they should pay for it."

"You can't expect the Ministry to spend its valuable resources on beasts." Umbridge said, and my whole body bristled with fury and shock at the unashamed nature of her insult.

"How dare you call me that?" I spat at her. She backed away from me slightly. Finally my wolfish yellow eyes and six foot two stature were beginning to intimidate her.

"Mr Lupin if you don't want to spend the full moon in the Ministry's facility then you can spend it in Azkaban."

"You cannot send me to Azkaban: I've not done anything wrong! I was judged fit to handle my condition by myself, and unless you can prove otherwise, you can't force me to spend the full moon in one of your cages." She must have known that I didn't have to spend the full moon at the Ministry anymore, she was at my appeal, which could only mean that she thought I wasn't clever enough to realise the emptiness of her threat. A werewolf surely wouldn't have the intelligence to work out that she didn't really have any right to lock him in a cage.

"You are not dealing with a frightened invalid or a 'beast' Miss Umbridge, you are dealing with an educated man." I told her quietly. "You'd do well to remember that the next time you threaten me."

"What did she say to that?" Sirius asked me once I had relayed the conversation to him.

"She just turned purple and told me to get out." I replied. "I shouldn't have lost my temper, it will only perpetuate the werewolf stereotype."

"Come one, she deserved it." Sirius argued. "I can't believe they cage you, that's so degrading."

"So is getting the sack." I said sadly.

"But it's nothing to do with your ability – it wasn't your fault." Sirius said. "Don't take it personally, Remus."

"I know – I just, I hate being unemployed. Without a job, what am I? Just a poor, ageing werewolf, of no use or importance to anybody."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. You think your friends would stop caring about you just because you don't have a job?" Sirius said impatiently. "Besides, at least you can still do Order work. _I'm_ the one who's useless."

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry Sirius," I said. "I'm being insensitive."

Then we heard a crash come from upstairs followed by a young female voice.

"Buggering Hell!" She exclaimed furiously. Then Mrs Black chimed in with: "GET OUT YOU FREAK OF NATURE!"

"That'll be Tonks." Sirius said with an amused smirk.

"Piss off you old hag!" I heard Tonks cry.

"Tonks? What's she doing here?" I asked, automatically running my hands through my hair.

"She has the afternoon off doesn't she?" Sirius replied.

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Didn't you? But isn't she patrolling Little Whining with you tonight?" Sirius said as he stood up preparing to greet his cousin.

"Yes, but that's not until eight. She didn't tell me she was coming over early."

"I see. I thought she would have told you. She seems to find it necessary to tell you every other detail of her life. Wasn't she telling you about some new lampshades she got the other day?"

"That was interesting." I defended.

"No it wasn't Moony." Sirius informed me with a grin on his face. "She was talking about _lampshades_."

"But these ones changed colour." I said and Sirius burst out laughing.

"You are as barmy as her!" He declared just as the barmy witch entered the kitchen.

"You're not talking about me are you Sirius?" She said with a lopsided grin. Sirius turned to face Tonks who was sporting a mohawk today. I smiled at her, temporarily forgetting my occupational problems. "Of course not Tonks, I was talking about the other female witch I know who enjoys confessing her every thought to a thirty five year old werewolf and has a mohawk." Sirius teased.

"Do you not like it?" Tonks asked, clearly completely unfazed by Sirius.

"You can pull it off." Sirius smirked. "Can't she Remus?" Sirius turned to look at me and there was something about the sparkle in his eyes: did he know?

"Of course." I said calling Sirius' bluff. Tonks' cheeks tinged pink and her eyes changed from blue to gold as I looked at her. Thankfully Sirius didn't seem to notice.

"Remus has lost his job, Tonks." He then said, to my dismay.

"Sirius!" I admonished.

"What? She'd have found out anyway, she's not stupid."

"I know, but..." I began, but found myself unable to continue as the only reason I didn't want Tonks to know I was once again unemployed was because I didn't want her to think less of me – but I couldn't admit that to her or to Sirius.

"What happened?" Tonks asked me concern etched all over her young face.

"Oh, er," I struggled. "Someone guessed what I was, and complained to the ministry."

"What and they just had you fired? That's ridiculous." Tonks said.

"Remus thinks he's not important to anyone anymore, now that he doesn't have a job." Said Sirius.

"Sirius!" I complained again. "I didn't tell you that so that you could then go and tell it to everyone else!"

"I'm not telling it to everyone else, I'm telling it to Tonks." Sirius replied looking innocently at me. Tonks eyes darted between Sirius and I for a few moments then rested kindly on me.

"You're still important to us." She said honestly, making me feel very pathetic.

"Can we not talk about this anymore." I insisted.

"Yeah, it's got boring anyway," Sirius said brightly, "let's see if the kids need any help taming this godawful house."

We spent the afternoon doing as Sirius had suggested. As it turned out the library really was much grubbier than Sirius and I had cared to observe, and it took us rather a long time to get it hygienic. It didn't help that work was frequently interrupted by the twins inventing new uses for magical mess remover. At one point they used the foam to give themselves long white beards and performed a skit entitled "what would happen if Dumbledore met himself?". They also discovered that a simple petrifying spell could turn blobs of foam into quite effective substitute snowballs, which of course resulted in a fight. The twins weren't the only ones causing trouble however. Rather than put old photographs of his family into the rubbish boxes Sirius preferred to blow them up, which although he found enjoyable rather irritated Molly as it undid a lot of the cleaning she had already done. Tonks also got bored quite quickly, and to entertain herself she would imitate a physical feature of someone else in the room until they noticed. Her most amusing impression was a close tie between Molly's breasts and my nose, both features being several times too large for Tonk's petite form.

It was nearing five o' clock and Molly had left the rest of us to finish the library by ourselves (I think Sirius' pyrotechnics and Tonks' giant breasts exhausted her patience). Sirius and Hermione were putting all the books that had tried to snap off our fingers in a spell-proof box; Fred and Ginny were trying to put something into Ron's trousers while he dusted a book shelf; and George, Tonks and I were removing a selection of rather disturbing paintings of people gripped by various curses. There were only five, but that really was five too many. Sirius and I would have taken them down already if it weren't for the strange charm placed on them. Unlike many of the paintings in the house they weren't charmed to stick to the wall, but they needed three people's hands to touch them before they could be removed. I had learnt the hard way, that when any less than three people tried to remove them, the paintings gave one very painful blisters which required several hours soaking in Murtlap essence before they healed. Presumably the purpose of the charm was to ensure that the paintings weren't removed until at least three people agreed about it. I had heard of similar, though less severe, spells being used to prevent a husband selling his house without first discussing it with his wife. So Tonks, George and I were grasping each of the pictures at the same time to pluck them from the wall and place them in a cardboard box to be destroyed.

"Professor Lupin?" George asked me while we worked.

"You don't need to call me professor, George, I'm not your teacher anymore." I told him. "You can call me Remus."

"Alright, Remus." George said grinning. "I have a question about charms."

"Ah, ask away." I said cheerfully.

"Well, Hermione said the other day that she never really daydreams – never for extended periods of time anyway – which Fred and I thought was a terrible shame."

"It is very enjoyable." I agreed. I glanced at Tonks who was listening with amused attention. I wondered what she would think if she knew just how many of my daydreams revolved around her.

"Yeah, so we've been trying to come up with a daydreaming charm." George told me and I smiled. So that's what they were doing. I had often spotted the twins flicking through spell books and hardly a day went by where we didn't hear a small explosion coming from their room. Merlin forbid, Fred and George were doing homework; I had learnt while I was their teacher, that they had a fundamental antipathy for homework. I reasoned those strange sweets that made Dung's tongue grow so big that it lolled out of his mouth and hung to his waist, were Weasley creations as well. They may be troublemakers, but they were without a doubt very gifted and creative wizards.

"We've been looking at charms that affect your dreams," George continued, "and charms that ward off nightmares, but they only seem to work when you're asleep – we need something that works when you are awake. Do you have any suggestions?"

I licked my lips and thought for a moment, "dreaming charms are designed to alter the dreams someone is already having naturally, you want something that induces a dreaming state. It's no good trying to modify a sleep enchantment either because those usually cause dreamless sleep anyway."

"Oh!" I exclaimed as an idea struck me, "you could try modifying concentration enhancing charms, or wit sharpening charms, like 'cresco cogito'. But instead of concentration or reasoning ability, make the subject of the spell pure imagination."

"Oh okay, yeah, we'll give that a try." George said happily, and I felt a rush of warmth that almost made me forget that I had recently been fired. I noticed Tonks was looking at me with an enigmatic smile on her face. I couldn't work out what sort of smile it was, but by Merlin it felt good to have her give it to me. George, Tonks and I removed the last of those ghastly paintings (a particularly disgusting one of an old man struck by an entrail-expelling curse) while Sirius finally lost is temper with Kreacher who was trying to steal back the books he and Hermione had collected to be destroyed.

"It's my house Kreacher! I can destroy whatever parts of it I like!" Sirius yelled at him.

"Yes master Black, of course master Black." Kreacher muttered as he plonked one of the books back in the spell-proof box. I noticed that the books didn't try to snap off Kreacher's fingers.

"Now do as you are told and dust those bookshelves!" Sirius ordered. Kreacher took a cloth from behind his ear and hobbled over to where Ron was fidgeting and nervously looking at his trousers.

"Ungrateful boy...if only mistress were here...she'd show him." Kreacher mumbled to himself.

"Sirius, I really think you should be more polite to Kreacher." Hermione told Sirius with a severe look on her face.

"Polite to him? It's only out of the goodness of my heart that I'm letting him continue to live here." Sirius argued with an equally severe expression.

"Technically Sirius, you let him stay here because he knows too many Order secrets." I corrected.

"Be quiet Remus." Sirius reprimanded.

"What do you think professor?" Hermione asked me tucking a lock of her thick hair behind one ear.

"I think Kreacher might be more co-operative if you were a bit more forgiving Sirius." I said.

"Forgiving? But Kreacher hasn't done anything wrong!" Hermione argued. I admired Hermione's passionate sympathy for house elves, but Kreacher wasn't as innocent as Hermione thought he was. Kreacher

knew of Sirius' unhappy childhood and so frequently reminded him of it in his mumblings that I no longer thought it was unintentional: Kreacher _enjoyed_ taunting Sirius. Sirius opened his mouth, perhaps to make this very point, but then Ron gave a loud scream and started dancing around the room like a frightened hippogriff while Fred and Ginny cried with laughter. After a moment's observation I realised Ron was trying to shake something out of his trousers.

"Accio!" I called and four shiny little beetle-like things shot out of the end of Ron's trouser leg and into my outstretched hand. They emitted a loud rattling noise and attempted to jump from my palm until I pointed my wand at them and said "finite".

"These are very impressive little contraptions, Fred, George. But unless you want them to be confiscated I suggest you refrain from putting them in your brother's trousers." I said. I gave the small beetles back to Fred who shoved them in a pocket, while the rest tried to cover their sniggers.

"You must have been a good teacher." Tonks told me later, while the two of us sat on a garden wall in Little Whining. It was nearing two in the morning and we had been patrolling the area around Privet Drive since eight o' clock. Tonks had used her Patronus, which was much more discreet than mine being a small goldfinch, to ask me to meet her at the corner of Privet Drive for a break. From the wall we had a good view of number four where Harry lived, and the surrounding houses, so it was an ideal surveillance point.

"What makes you say that?" I asked as I took a nifty little magical gadget Arthur had leant me from my pocket. It was made of stainless steel and about the size of a packet of cigarettes, until I tapped it with my wand, then like reverse origami it unfolded into two small stainless steel coffee cups and a pot of hot coffee on a small steel tray. It was a bit twee for my taste really, but it was two in the morning and my craving for caffeine seemed much more important than matters of taste. I set the tray on the wall next to me and poured some coffee.

"Because all the kids really like you." Tonks said.

"Being well liked doesn't necessarily mean I was a good teacher." I said handing her a cup. "Usually you learn the most from they teachers you hate."

"Merlins balls Remus!" Tonks suddenly exclaimed, the many bangles and bracelets she wore on her wrists jangling as she gesticulated and a hiss escaping her mouth as she spilt a splash of hot coffee on her jeans.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"I have never met anyone who tries to argue their way out of a compliment before." She said, and I laughed.

"Sorry."

"Or someone who apologises as much as you do."

"I'm strange, I get it." Now it was Tonk's turn to laugh.

"They are good kids, being liked by them is indeed a compliment." I said after her laughter had subsided. "Speaking of the Weasleys, how are you coping with their red hair?"

"You remembered?" Tonks said sweetly.

"Of course I did." I replied. It really did surprise me that Tonks thought I would forget her unique ability to feel things when she changed her physical appearance, or when she looked at the physical appearance of other people. Red hair was, unfortunately, a feature that caused Tonks to feel as if pins were being pressed into her skin. I presumed the feeling was worse when she morphs her own hair to that rusty orange colour, but she had told me that she feels that unpleasant texture when she sees red hair on other people as well.

"Er, I feel really bad about it." Tonks admitted coving her face with her hand. "I can usually ignore it – but sometimes at order meetings I'm sitting across from Arthur and it gets really annoying! I feel awful, because they are such lovely people – and I actually think their hair _looks_ really nice, especially Ginny, she's gorgeous – it just feels so horrid."

"You can't help it Tonks." I consoled.

"Yeah I guess." She said. "It's alright if I just don't look at their hair, because all the Weasleys have nice feeling faces."

"What do their faces feel like?" I asked, absolutely captivated.

"They are all kind of soft feeling – like unicorn hair. The twins and Molly have especially soft faces." Tonks explained. "It's quite strange to regard them as a whole – because they are soft and spiky at the same time."

"I suppose they are a bit like that." I remarked. "Molly is the kindest woman I've ever met, but I wouldn't like to get on her bad side." Tonks laughed again then sipped some of the coffee I had given her. I felt a stab of guilt at how much I enjoyed watching her lips caress the edge of the cup and hearing the satisfied hum she made as she drank.

"What's Harry like?" Tonks then asked me, her eyes looking over towards number four.

"He's very charming. Polite, generous – a lot like his mother."

"Everyone says he's like his dad."

"He _looks_ like his dad – the spitting image of him. But he has his mother's temperament I think."

"Did you know his mother well? I guess you must have if you were best friends with his dad..."

"Yes I knew Lily quite well." I said before a wave of sad nostalgia hit me. "She was a lovely person."

"You miss them a lot, don't you? Like Sirius does." Tonks said, and I stopped looking at my coffee cup and turned my attention to Tonks' Lily-green eyes.

"Yes. The gap left in my life after they died still feels quite prominent." I said and I was surprised to find that I didn't feel uncomfortable telling Tonks something so personal. "I still feel angry that Harry never knew them."

"I can't imagine what it would be like to grow up without a mum and dad. Whenever I try – whenever I think about what my life might have been like without my parents, well, it almost makes me cry." Tonks admitted in such a quiet voice that I could tell she was confessing something private. "I was hard growing up in a war. We were always moving – hiding, from people that wanted to hurt us because my dad was muggleborn or because I was a 'shapeshifting freak'. I don't know how I would have coped with all that hate coming at us, if it weren't for my parents. They were such good friends to me, and they made me feel so loved – that I hardly noticed how difficult our lives actually were. Sometimes I think, I don't really deserve such good parents. Not when there are so many children out there with horrible parents or without any at all."

Tonks looked carefully at me and I wondered as her complexity: how was it that someone as funny, feisty and vivacious as Tonks was also so introspective, humble and really quite shy? I only wished I was someone more interesting than an old werewolf who can't hold down a job. I found myself unable to think of anything to say, but Tonks didn't seem to mind my silence. In the limited light from the streetlamp across the road, I saw her eyes change shape and turn gold so that they looked exactly like mine. I couldn't help but laugh a little as I looked at my own eyes on her face.

"What?" Tonks asked, then, "Oh! Am I copying your eyes again?"

"Er...yes."

"Sorry."

"Oh it's okay. Actually, I sort of like it." I admitted reticently. "Is that weird?"

"You like it when I imitate your eyes?" Said Tonks clearly confused.

"I like it when you morph without meaning to." I clarified. "Imitating my eyes is, sort of a bonus.

"A bonus?"

"Well, it means you were looking at my eyes doesn't it?"

"It means that I like them." Tonks admitted, and I suddenly realised how close we were sitting.

"Well, that's nice." I said stupidly. "What do my eyes feel like?"

"They feel like...hot chocolate on a cold day. That feeling of being warmed up from the inside." Tonks said. She glanced down at my lips and I felt my temperature go up several degrees.

"We should probably do another patrol." I said, and as Tonks remembered why we were really here, the moment between us was gone.

"Yes, you're right." She said downing the last of her coffee and handing my back the cup.

"Meet back here in an hour?" I suggested.

"Sure." She said brightly, and, feeling slightly awkward, we parted company.


	51. We All Have a Curse With Our Name On

(Okay, importance notice: there are quotes from the actual books in this chapter! The bit where they rescue Harry and the fight between molly and Sirius are all from Book 5. Also, sorry this chapter is a bit dull. Good stuff to come though! Remus and Tonks' causal flirting will become more consequential soon I promise. Though I kind of like how drawn out it is. They are both so cute.)

**51 We all have a curse with our name on**

"What was your favourite subject at school?" Tonks asked me as she rested her chin on her palm her fluffy pink hair falling across her face. I chuckled and caressed the stem of my wine glass. She had been asking me questions like this all night.

"Honestly Tonks, can't the man have any secrets?" Arthur asked Tonks jokingly as he took her finished dinner plate from in front of her.

"Oh! No let me do that!" Tonks insisted as Arthur put Tonks' plate on top of the pile he had levitated into the air next to him.

"No Tonks!" Molly cried out a little too hastily, "You carry on, Ginny is going to do the washing up."

"What?" Ginny, who had been doodling in her transfiguration textbook, suddenly cried out in indignation.

"Come on, off your bottom." Molly said to her daughter as she charmed the sink to start filling up with warm soapy water. Molly pointed her wand at the floating pile of plates which gracefully drifted across the room towards the sink.

"Make Fred and George do it!" Ginny whined gesturing to the red-haired boys sitting opposite her. "They can use magic."

"Which is exactly why I _don't_ want them to do it. Last time they got washing up liquid all over the ceiling." Molly said.

"What's the big deal? The ceiling needed a clean." Fred said while George, with his head resting on the wooden kitchen table, continued to snore having dropped off some twenty minutes ago (one of their magical sweets gone wrong perhaps?).

"I'll help Ginny!" Tonks said standing up and accidentally head-butting Arthur who was still standing next to her.

"Oof!" Exclaimed Arthur his glasses slipping off his nose.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Tonks squeaked catching Arthur's glasses before they hit the floor with paradoxical dexterity.

"Don't worry Tonks," Arthur said kindly taking his glasses back and rubbing his chin, "but perhaps Molly is right, maybe you should leave the washing up to Ginny."

"Dad!" Ginny cried again slamming her transfiguration book shut. Tonks blushed and sat back down opposite me. I gave her a consoling smile and poured some more wine into her now empty glass.

"I'll help you Ginny." Said Hermione, who had been helping Ron with a History of Magic essay, and the two girls got up from the table and made their way to the sink.

"Wait wait! What shall I put next?" Ron cried out pointing at the parchment in front of him with his ink-stained fingers.

"Ron I can't give you every sentence! I might as well write it for you!" Hermione protested.

"Well it would save a lot of time." Ron said with a smirk and Hermione glared at him, though I noticed the corners of her mouth twitching.

"You learn a lot more by doing it yourself, Ron." I advised gently from a few seats down.

"Don't be hypocritical Remus, you let me copy your history essays every week." Sirius, who was sitting next to me with Crookshanks purring on his lap.

"And do you know anything about the history of magic?" I asked shrewdly. Tonks and Fred tittered while Sirius rolled his eyes. "A case in point, Ron." I added gesturing towards Sirius. Ron laughed and turned his attention back to his essay.

"Well folks, I'd best be off!" Bill said brightly from the opposite end of the table. Bill picked up his wine glass and finished it.

"Oh, where are you off to?" Molly asked pleasantly.

"I have a date." Bill said happily as he tucked a strand of his long ginger hair behind his ear.

"With the witch with the belly button piercing?" Molly asked with an air of disapproval as she vanished the crumbs off the kitchen table with a wave of her wand.

"No, no, someone else." Bill said lifting his leather jacket off the back of his chair.

"Someone else? How many women are you dating?" Fred exclaimed with a tinge of jealousy.

"Who is it then?" Ginny asked from amongst the soapy dishes.

"Well – I'm being a bit optimistic calling it a date..." Bill said his ears going slightly red.

"Who is she though?" Ginny pressed.

"Er, Fleur Delacour..." Bill mumbled.

"What?" About four people exclaimed. I'm not entirely certain who the four were but one of them was definitely Tonks.

"The Triwizard Champion?" Ginny exclaimed in awe.

"You're too old for her! She's closer to my age than yours!" Ron cried in outrage.

"Yeah, like you'd have chance with her." Fred hissed.

"Er, yeah, she's got a job at Gringotts." Bill explained shrugging on his jacket.

"Excuse me, Mr Weasley I'm not sure I approve." Tonks said doing quite a good impression of Molly's chastising tone.

"Of me dating Fleur? But she's smart, gorgeous and french...what's not to like?" Bill argued.

"Not of you dating Fleur of Fleur dating you!" Tonks returned. "She's a good friend of mine, you know."

"Really?" Said both Bill and Molly.

"Yeah, so better be a perfect gentleman, Mr Weasley." Tonks warned pointing a finger at Bill who grinned.

"I'm always a gentleman." Bill said smirking.

"I better go as well," Arthur said as he inspected Ron's essay over his shoulder, "I told Kingsley's department I'd have a report ready for them by tomorrow, and I haven't even started it yet what with..."

Arthur paused noticing the number of non-Order members who had suddenly become extremely attentive.

"Well you know what with." Arthur finished. "It shouldn't take me too long, I've done all the research for it..."

"Alright dear, but don't stay in the office too late, you can always ask for an extension." Molly said kindly putting her hand on her husband's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Arthur smiled at her then kissed her cheek. Arthur and Bill headed towards the kitchen stairs, with Molly following so that she could lock the door after them.

In their absence, Fred and Ron had a small fight about why Fleur was out of Ron's league, and Tonks turned back to me with a broad smile.

"So – what was your favourite subject?"

"I don't think I really had one." I replied thoughtfully. "Maybe charms."

"Charms? Ah, so you're a dreamer." Tonks said smiling like a cheshire cat.

"I don't understand, how does liking charms make me a dreamer?"

"Well charms make things or people do things they wouldn't naturally do – like fly, or become invisible, or forget something memorable. Basically, you look at the world and think, wouldn't it be neat if stuff did this instead of that. Charms are your dreams or thoughts come to life." Tonks said, her hands gesticulating beautifully as she spoke. I knew I was smiling like a besotted moron, but I couldn't help it! I was a besotted moron!

"What a wonderful way of putting it." I remarked, ignoring Sirius' disparaging snort. "The patronus charm is a good example of that, as it is, as you said, your positive thoughts come to life to protect you."

"Yeah, so someone who's good at charms, wants to make the world like their dreams." Tonks said, her blue eyes glowing brightly.

"Merlin, the pair of you!" Sirius interjected, and 'there pair of us' turned to look at him. "You're both so overly romantic. Charms are for girls."

Tonks and I exchanged smirks.

"Transfiguration is much better." Sirius continued ignoring us. "Remember how I used to transfigure James' glasses into various birds? They would fly off his face and he would have blindly chase after them with a net."

"Yes, you did have a talent for transfiguration. You changed them into an eagle once, poor James got the fright of his life!" I recounted.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, "He was just sitting there doodling pictures of his future wife when all of a sudden a giant bird of prey was sitting on his face."

"I like transfiguration as well." Tonks admitted, after the image of James Potter squinting through myopic eyes and flaying a net around in a vain attempt to catch an eagle ceased to amuse her.

"I was good at it," she added with a shrug and to demonstrate her natural skill she changed her hair from pink to baby blue. While I admired Tonks transformed tresses Ginny and Hermione finished the washing up and soon they were being ushered upstairs by Molly, along with Ron and the twins. Tonks, Sirius and I bid them goodnight as they past us on the way to the stairs.

"Transfiguration I found tricky." I confessed once the children were gone.

"Didn't you teach transfiguration at that other school you worked in?" Tonks asked her eyes narrowed, "the one in Ireland?"

"Er, yes, but I'm not really that good at it." I said, taking another drink of wine.

"What did you get in your NEWT?"

"You do ask a lot of questions."

"Oh, sorry." Tonks blushed. "It's just...I bet you're one of those people who say they're rubbish at something and then get outstandings in everything."

"Oh I see." I said blushing myself. I could hear Sirius tutting as he sat next to me.

"You got an outstanding didn't you?" Tonks said knowingly and I winced.

"But still, my transfiguration skills are not beyond NEWT level, whereas I'm sure yours are." I said quickly and Tonks laughed covering her eyes with her hand. Sirius stood up, shoving Crookshanks off his lap as he did so, and picked up the empty bottle of wine in front of me.

"Shall I get another?" He asked.

"Er," I began, "I suspect Tonks is eager to get home." I added looking questioningly at the young woman.

"Oh, er," she said timidly, "not really. I've not much to do tonight. A few reports, but I'll do them in the morning."

"Don't your friends miss you? You surely can't prefer the company of us old fogies?" I asked quietly.

"I told you, I don't have that many friends in London." Tonks said. "Only Hestia, and you've met her..." (Hestia had joined the Order a few days ago) "she's lovely but not especially exciting."

"And we are?" I questioned with a smirk.

"Of course we are!" Sirius answered, as he fiddled around in the wine cupboard, "Now we have some elf wine here, or some er...kirsch? The hell's that?"

"It's er, cherry brandy." I informed him.

"Well, aren't you the font of all knowledge." Sirius murmured sarcastically. "Shall we give it a go?"

"It's not very nice Sirius..." I began but I was interrupted by a roar of flames from the fireplace to my right and Tonks crying "guys!" her tone suddenly very serious. I looked towards the fireplace and saw Arthur's head sitting in the middle of it. Sirius Tonks and I quickly gathered around the fireplace.

"Arthur? What-" I began, as the Order only ever contacted headquarters via floo if it was an emergency, as use of the floo network was traceable.

"It's Harry." Arthur said slightly breathlessly.

"What's happened?" Sirius demanded his voice harsh and authoritative.

"He's been caught doing underage magic." Arthur explained, "a patronus charm."

"A patronus?" Tonks murmured confused. "Why?"

"Harry wouldn't cast a patronus unless there was a need for it," I asserted, "which can only mean-"

"Dementors." Sirius finished for me. "He was attacked?"

"In Surry? But Dementors can't leave Azkaban..." Tonks said, then she looked carefully at my eyes, "not without a wizard's help. You don't think...?"

"It's too early to tell, but I agree with Remus, that Harry wouldn't cast a patronus just for the sake of it. However, the ministry are not so logical – they wanted to expell him from Hogwarts and destroy his wand."

"_Wanted_ to? They've changed their mind?" Said Sirius.

"It was fortunate I came in tonight. I saw the automatic warning go out from Mafalda's office, then the night staff get ready to go out to Surry. I managed to stall them a bit and then Dumbledore arrived." Arthur explained.

"Ah, well done." I said as Arthur paused for breath.

"Thank you." Said Arthur. "Dumbledore sent messages to Amelia Bones and Mafalda, and less then five minutes later they had turned up. They soon agreed that this was obviously not a usual case of underage magic – so now nothing will be done until Harry has had a disciplinary hearing on the twelfth."

I breathed out and Tonks bit her lip.

"Who was on duty tonight?" Sirius asked, a crease between his eyebrows and a muscle in his jaw tensed.

"Er..." I murmured riffling through my recent memories, "Dung."

"Where was he when the Dementors descended?" Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow and a distrustful tone.

"I don't know, AWOL I'm presuming." Said Arthur. I saw anger flash in Sirius's eyes. It was fortunate for Dung that Sirius liked him, it meant that he'd get away with a nasty hex.

"The little shit." Muttered Tonks. "Figgy's still there though right?"

"I think so." Arthur said.

"She wont be much help if Harry's attacked again," Sirius said as he snatched the History essay Ron had left in the kitchen from the table. He ripped off the bottom of the last page, took a quill and wrote a message on it.

"What are you writing?" I asked.

"I'm telling Harry to stay in the house – he should be safe there right?" Sirius said rolling the message back up.

"Yes, as long as he stays indoors." I said.

"Has someone taken over from Dung?" Tonks asked Arthur.

"Er, I don't know." Arthur replied.

"We should go over there." Tonks added looking at me, "do a sweep – check there are no more Dementors lurking about."

"Yes, good idea." I agreed.

"Are there any brooms here, Sirius? We'll have a better vantage point from the air." Said Tonks, and it was suddenly very evident that she was an auror.

"Yes we do, in a cupboard in the hall. But I haven't checked them for curses." Sirius said regarding Tonks and I with concern.

"It's okay, Ron and Ginny brought theirs with them for Quidditch practice, they will let you borrow them." Said Arthur.

"Right, well let's not waste anymore time." I said, gesturing to Tonks that we should leave.

"Arthur, will you send this for me, we haven't any owls here at the moment." Said Sirius. Arthur's hand suddenly appeared next to his head in the fire and he reached out towards Sirius. Sirius squatted down and put his message into Arthur's hand.

"I'l send it now. I'll be back in about an hour." Arthur said before he vanished from the fire.

"And Dumbledore thought he'd be safer there than here." Sirius said bitterly once Arthur had gone. I opened my mouth, perhaps to defend Dumbledore, but decided, upon seeing Sirius's expression, that that would not be helpful.

Instead I said, "don't worry. He'll be here before the week is out."

Tonks and I did a sweep of Little Whinging that night, but found nothing out of the ordinary. The next morning the Order held an emergency meeting. Dung got an earful from almost everyone for being absent from his post; Dumbledore approved the plan I had drawn up for transporting Harry; and eight people volunteered to form the advance guard with me, which was more than I had asked for, but as Moody had said, the more the better. Although none of the Order members had been attacked yet (probably because the Death Eaters didn't know the Order existed) Sturgis had spotted two possible Death Eaters in Little Whinging last week, supporting our theory that we weren't the only people keeping an eye on Harry, so it made sense to err on the side of caution. The first part of the plan, a genius idea accredited to Tonks, to get the Dursleys out of the way, went smoothly, as did the second part: a scan of Little Whinging by our rear guard. The third part was a little less regimented...

"Better wizards that you have lost buttocks, you know!"

"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" Tonks asked Moody after his startling remark. She seemed genuinely intrigued.

"Never you mind," replied Moody before turning to Harry, "you just keep your wand out of your back pocket! Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers with it any more."

Harry gave Moody a nervous glance and decided to just hold his wand in his hand, while Moody made his way to the Dursley's kitchen. Tonks rolled her eyes at the old wizard.

"And I saw that!" Moody snapped at Tonks who just laughed. I smiled at her and she winked at me, causing a pleasurable twinge somewhere in the region of my abdomen. I kept my feelings hidden and turned my attention to James' son. It had been such a long time since I had seen him. He had grown at least six inches, and looked even more like his father. I noticed his bright green eyes dart at the witches and wizards convened in the hallway. He looked excited and confused and defiant all at the same time. I knew from Sirius that Harry had not enjoyed his summer holidays, that he had felt isolated, abandoned even. The sudden appearance of eight magical folk must have been strange for him.

When Harry was a baby, he rarely cried, but he was extraordinarily attentive. He would inspect everything so carefully; and when you held him he'd stare at your face with such curiosity. Fifteen years later and it was evident that Harry still possessed that indomitable inquisitiveness. I felt a surge of affection for him. However, being the emotionally repressed man that I am, I had no way of expressing it. I shook Harry's hand and asked him how he was. It was a good thing I was unlikely to ever have a son of my own: imagine me saying goodbye to him as he left for Hogwarts for the first time, or comforting him after a nightmare, or greeting him after a long separation and only being able to shake his hand!

"F-fine..." Harry said. Then I introduced him to the advance guard ("Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus!"), and before too long we had got the all-clear from the rear guard and were mounting our brooms and heading for the sky.

The night we collected Harry was also the night Snape returned from a week long mission where he had attempted to make contact with the Death Eaters. When the advance guard arrived the meeting had already started so poor Harry was shunted upstairs while the rest of us quickly trooped down to the kitchen (the Order had grown sufficiently in numbers to render the dining room too small for meetings). The room was packed, with extra chairs squished in where ever there was room. When the advance guard entered there was a small round of applause.

"All go smoothly then?" Arthur asked, and I nodded.

"Journey back was uneventful." Sturgis said as he grabbed a chair next to a green haired wizard with a piggish nose called Thunder (I think his real name was Jerry).

"Bloody freezing though." Tonks added running a hand through her bright pink hair and taking a seat next to Minerva. Tonks gestured for me to sit next to her. I followed her advice, but after sitting down I wondered whether it had been a wise decision: because the room was so full, the chairs were very close together, so close in fact that Tonks thigh was pressed against my own, and I'm ashamed to admit what this did to my heart rate.

"No-one followed you?" Asked Dumbledore, his expression serious.

"No, I don't think so." I replied.

"I did suggest doing a loop to make sure-" Moody added.

"No-one followed us, I did a foe-detection spell every ten minutes, there was no-one there." Tonks said.

"The Dark Lord has little interest in tailing Potter." Snape said, his cold voice making everyone feel tense. Snape's black eyes scanned his now silent audience.

"Killing Potter is still amongst his dearest desires, but he wont try again until he has the prophecy. Fortunately the secrets of the department of mysteries remain as mysterious to him as they do to the rest of us." Snape said.

Severus Snape was a mystery himself. Like everyone else, I wondered what had made him change sides all those years ago. He was such a bitter man, and seemingly obsessed with power: he delighted in belittling other Order members, especially those of muggle parentage, and he definitely had a sadistic streak. He seemed an archetypal Death Eater, so why he had decided to betray Voldemort and ally himself with people he seemed to despise? The only theory I had was that somewhere behind his rancourous, unfriendly demeanour was a decent human being.

Snape went on to give a report on what he had learnt from trailing Death Eaters. He named a few new suspects and spoke of how Voldemort was using blackmail to gain servants. My mind was beginning to wander to the woman next to me, and the coquettish number of shirt buttons she had undone, when Snape brought me back to reality with a jolt.

"I also learnt that the Dark lord may now have vampires on his side." Snape said. "Including Leohnard."

"Leohnard? I thought he was a myth..." Dedelus Diggle exclaimed nervously.

"If only that were true." Dumbledore remarked solemnly.

"But he told me he wouldn't." I said. "I got the impression he thought working for Voldemort was degrading."

"He told you? When did you speak to him?" Emmeline asked with surprise.

"I, er," I began awkwardly, as I really didn't want to recount this tale. "I monitored some Death Eaters in Germany last year, and encountered Leohnard."

"Apparently Leohnard has changed his mind." Snape said sharply. "Perhaps, since you killed most of his court, he needs the Dark Lord's support."

There was a collective murmur of surprise and everyone turned to look at me with rapt curiosity.

"You killed his court?" Arthur asked in a quiet shocked voice. I dared not look anyone in the eyes. I didn't want them to know, I didn't want them to look at me and think of the werewolf that had killed a court of vampires. Especially Tonks. I had grown so fond of her, I didn't want to remind her of the horrific monster living inside me. I didn't want her to think of me that way.

There was an uncomfortable silence then, "Leohnard's court attempted to kill several aurors," said Tonks, "including me – we were out there after the Carrows. Remus managed to lure them away by dissapparating with Leohnard himself. He saved us but, almost got himself killed."

I turned to look at her. The way she put it made me sound almost heroic.

"His, er, his court attacked me." I added. "And in my effort to escape I, well, I...I killed several of them."

"The rumours are that he wants revenge." Snape said, looking mighty pleased about it. "Leohnard is a dangerous vampire, if he is looking for you Lupin, I suggest you make yourself hard to find. A fidelus charm on your house maybe."

I could think of nothing better to do than nod.

"If you-know-who has vampires on his side then were are in trouble." Bill said with a dark look. "I don't know how you managed to kill a whole court of them, Remus. Vampires have some powerful magical abilities. If any of the rest of us were out numbered we'd be dead for sure."

The fact that I had had three inch claws and fangs that could slice through dragon hide might have had something to do with it.

"Perhaps we should consult some vampire hunters." Dedelus Diggle suggested, thankfully shifting the focus away from me.

A fidelus charm was probably a good idea, and of course Sirius would be my secret keeper. He would probably berate me for not doing something about the Leohnard situation sooner. I suppose it was foolish of me just to ignore it, but, well, I didn't want to make a fuss. I didn't want to seem worried. I was though: Leohnard had wanted to kill me just for depriving him of Tonks for a meal, Merlin knows what he wanted to do to me for killing his court. But, his being recruited by Voldemort might actually work in my favour: if Leohnard was occupied doing the Dark Lord's bidding, as terrible as that was for all mankind, it meant he would have less time to seek me out personally. And really, what was one more person who wanted me dead? This was a war, we all had a curse with our name on.

Once the meeting had ended Molly served us a late dinner, and after a delicious rhubarb crumble that Molly insisted I have two helpings of ("You are far too thin Remus! It's a wonder the breeze doesn't blow you away."), Sirius killed the pleasant mood that had slowly bloomed, that I had been using to distract myself, by asking Harry why he hadn't been pressing us for information about Voldemort. What followed was a short but heated argument between Sirius and Molly.

"He's not _James_, Sirius!" Molly had exclaimed angrily, after Sirius had tried to put forward the case that Harry, being the one who had witnessed Vodlemort's return, had a right to know at least something of what the Order was doing.

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly." Sirius had snapped back his dark eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm not sure you are!" Molly returned, "sometimes the way you talk about him, it's as though you you think you've go your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" Harry suddenly exclaimed. Sirius' expression suddenly softened. I too looked at Harry with a distinct sense of melancholy. Sirius and I both knew what was going on in Harry's head, even if he wasn't entirely aware of it. We had both lost people we loved and knew what it felt like to desperately want them back. We understood that strange need to cling onto anything that made it feel like they weren't really gone. Harry liked the idea of Sirius seeing him as James, because it made it feel like his dad was still around somehow, living through him.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I am an _irresponsible_ godfather?" Sirius demanded trying hard, but in vain, to hide how angry he felt. His eyes flicked towards me, and I silently warned him to calm down, but Sirius ignored me.

"Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Siirus, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and-"

"We'll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!"

"Arthur! Arthur, back me up!"

Arthur took a moment to clean his glasses before he responded, "Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in, to a certain extent, now that he is staying at Headquarters."

"Yes, but there's a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!"

"Personally," I said, my voice very quiet compared to Molly's and Sirius', "I think it better that Harry get the facts – not all of the facts, Molly, but the general pictures – from us, rather than a garbled version from...others."

I highly doubted that Molly managed to destroy all of those eavesdropping devices Fred and George had invented so who knows what the kids had heard.

"Well I can see that I am going to be overruled." Molly said giving me an uncharacteristically cold glance, perhaps she had hoped I would be on her side. "I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart-"

"He's not your son." Sirius said suddenly.

"He is as good as!" Molly returned passionately. "Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!" Sirius replied, obviously deeply offended that Molly was disregarding Sirius' affection for Harry.

"Yes, the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Sirius looked absolutely livid. He rose from his chair. I could guess what he was thinking. _As if it was my fault I was sent to prison! _Molly blinked a few times as she looked at Sirius and I got the feeling she hadn't really meant what she had said. Her remark was borne from concern for Harry I knew, but it was below the belt.

"Molly, you are not the only person at this table who cares about Harry." I said sharply, Molly looked at me, but dared not argue with me. After that Molly was forced to accept that we would tell Harry (and in the end Fred, George, Ron and Hermione as well) some of what the Order had been doing. Perhaps because it would annoy Molly, Sirius told Harry and the others more than I had expected him to – he very nearly told Harry about the prophecy, which Dumbledore had specifically told us to keep secret from him. But Molly stopped him.

"You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straightaway!" She had said.

"Why not? I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight!" Harry said at once.

"No." I said calmly as I looked at Harry. He was far too young, far to young to fight in a war. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards – wizards who have left school. There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you..."

Like lightning flashes, I remembered duelling with Death Eaters in the last war, fighting for my life as my comrades died beside me, learning of the Potters' death, the agony of a cruciatus curse and I imagined what horrible things a vengeful Leohnard might do to me.

"I think Molly's right, Sirius, we've said enough." I said firmly, Sirius looked sullen and shrugged, but like Molly, he also thought better than arguing with me. After that the children were sent to bed. Sirius remained in a bad mood, and for once Tonks decided she'd rather go home than spend any more time with us.

I walked her to the front door. I was about to open it to let her out when she touched my arm, indicating for me to wait. I gave her a questioning look.

"Are you worried?" She asked gently. "About Leohnard?"

I took deep breath before answering, "a little, but I've had people wanting to kill me before."

"I feel bad. It's sort of my fault." She said quietly.

"Your fault? How is it your fault?"

"If I hadn't have been there, you wouldn't have intervened, Leohnard's court wouldn't have tried to kill you...You wouldn't have..." Tonks found she couldn't finish that sentence. She bit her lip and tried not to look at the werewolf. I sighed deeply and stared at the ragged silk wallpaper.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Remus." She added a few moments later. A long silence followed while I tried to work out how she could know me so well after such a short time.

"I meant what I said you know." She said.

"What do you mean?"

"When I said I wasn't afraid of you, in Germany." She said fiddling with her blue painted nails. "It's true. I'm not. I know...that you are dangerous...when it's the full moon. But...that's just one night a month. The rest of the time you are you."

She looked at me uncertainly, almost as if she was looking to me for confirmation.

"It's really not that simple." I said. Tonks nodded and fiddled with her nails again. There was a long silence.

"Well, I er, I better go." She blurted when the silence had become too awkward. "I see you tomorrow, probably."

"Yes." I said, and Tonks bit her lip again and looked at me like I was causing her physical pain.

"That's a really long time to wait." She mumbled.

"What?" I asked and Tonks winced.

"Nothing. I have to go." She said quickly stabbing the door with her wand so that it opened. Feeling incredibly confused I watched Tonks walk down the stone steps into the street. She tripped on the last one and I was about to run out and catch her, but she righted herself before I needed to.

"I'm fine, I'm okay." She said. She stood in the middle of the street as if waiting for me to say something. When I said nothing she held out a hand and waved before she dissaparated.


	52. Vincent Greer

Thanks so much for the reviews! I hope you are still enjoying this story, I worry so much you see. And I'm sorry this update has taken so long! It's just not flowing easily at the moment. :(

**52 Vincent Greer**

Over the next few days Sirius and Molly made a conscious effort to be polite to one another. Sirius bottled his pride and helped Molly and the kids with the cleaning, though after two days he was itching to get out of the house.

The August heat wave was waining and when I woke at the crack of dawn in service of the Order, my room was actually quite cool. I stood in the centre of the room facing the window and scowled. I wasn't really a morning person. I hated getting up. In fact, everyday I wonder at how I manage it. I watched the sunlight pierce through gaps in the curtains with indomitable brightness. Even though it was waking me up I still had to admire it's beauty. My relationship with the moon is strained at best, so the sun has always seemed very comforting. I ran my hands through my hair, which ignored my attempts to tame it and remained sticking up at odd angles. Then I massaged my shoulder. It was only a few days until the full moon and my bite was aching.

I yawned and scanned Regulus' room for my dressing gown. The room was quite messy. I hadn't changed much: the Slytherin banners were still on the wall and Lilith still looked seductively into the room, from her place next to the wardrobe; but I had brought in many of my things. My books covered the desk, my clothes hung over the chair by the fireplace, my razor, aftershave, lunascope and a few other bits and pieces littered the top of the chest of drawers; and finally, my dressing gown hung on a hook on the back of the door. I grabbed it and pulled it over my bare chest. It was in quite a sorry state: it was very faded, the seems were coming apart in various places and it had worn thin at the elbows. It was no good trying to repair it with magic, it was too late for that. It was a mildly depressing thought that capitalism was so ingrained in society's minds that wizards couldn't even magic away the physical signs of their poverty. Normally I would have got dressed before I went downstairs for breakfast, but I figured it was too early for anyone else to be awake, so I quietly made my way down to the kitchen in my tattered dressing gown.

When I entered I was half way through a yawn so I stepped into the kitchen with my eyes closed. When I opened them I found Tonks smirking at me. I jumped.

"Wotcher." She said cheekily.

"Er, good morning." I said awkwardly as I surreptitiously closed the opening of my dressing gown. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to catch you in a half-dressed state." She returned with an impish glint in her eye that made me feel quite nervous. I gave a quiet laugh.

"Well congratulations," I said, "you succeeded." Tonks laughed and ran her hands through her short hair, which was apple green today, to match her Lily-green eyes.

"No, I just finished guard duty." She confessed. Upon reflection I suppose she did look a little sleepy. "Thought I'd hang around here until breakfast – Molly does the best french toast."

"I see." I said as Tonks inspected the kettle heating on the stove. I licked my lips and walked towards her. I stopped when I was about two yards away and rested one hand on the kitchen table, while I put the other in my dressing gown pocket. Tonks looked back at me with that devilish smile of hers.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed." She teased.

"_Cute_?" I questioned. "I'm not sure I want to be cute."

"Why? What's wrong with cute?" Tonks said.

"Baby rabbits are cute," I said, "girls with green hair are cute," I added with a smile that caused Tonks to blush as she laughed.

"I'm a thirty five year old man, I don't want to be cute."

"What do you want to be then?" Tonks said in a sultry voice as she walked towards me so that we were only a foot apart. I was only in my pyjamas, but the way she looked at me, I could have been dressed in a tuxedo befitting James Bond, a muggle spy that I rather admired when I was a boy. How did this happen? A few months ago I was too old for her, a few days ago I was her aged friend, and now I'm standing next to her with her looking at me like that? Was it just because she had been up all night? Sleep depravation was causing her to forget what I was, how old I was, how dangerous I was. There was an itching in the back of my mind telling me to get out, telling me that this was a bad idea, but I couldn't stop myself.

"I don't know." I murmured back.

"Endearing? Charming?" Tonks suggested.

"Yes, either of those." I said smiling at the woman who was now close enough to kiss.

"You have an eyelash..." She whispered, then she stood on her tiptoes and used two fingers to gently brush an eyelash from my cheek. I found myself breathing very quickly as her eyes flicked down to my mouth. She smiled in a thrilled kind of way and took a deep breath. She leant towards me and I found myself wanting to close my eyes. Then I heard a toilet flush. I blinked in surprise and Tonks grinned sheepishly. I turned to watch Sirius enter the kitchen from the small WC opposite the pantry. I could have clattered him for stealing that romantic moment from me. He was dressed in the black jeans he had pilfered from me and one of his own silk shirts. Even with his messy unwashed hair he looked like a rock star, which only made me want to smack him even more.

"Oh, hello Remus." He said casually. "I'd give it a few minutes if I were you." He added pointing over his shoulder to the bathroom. Tonks couldn't contain her mirth: laughter exploded out of her like the sunlight through my bedroom curtains. I'm glad she found it amusing. But then, she was never going to kiss me anyway.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked him suspiciously.

"Insomnia. I hardly ever sleep these days." Sirius replied. I'm sure it was at least half true: he did fall asleep in the middle of the day quite often.

"Did you not sleep at all?" I asked with a concerned frown.

"Ah, an hour or two maybe." Sirius replied casually as if it were normal.

"You should make yourself a sleeping potion, Sirius." I told him sternly. "It's no wonder your mood is all over the place if you are only manage two hours' sleep a night."

"My mood is not all over the place." Sirius said making his way towards the recently boiled kettle. "Want some coffee?"

"Er, yes thank you." I said, and Sirius took the hot kettle off the stove. While he made coffee for the three of us I watched his face closely. To everyone else, Sirius was a naturally cheerful person who was occasionally a bit moody, but I knew better. It was much more complicated than that. His cheerful mood and his seconds-away-from-an-explosion-of-fury were sometimes quite difficult to tell apart. The twitch at the corner of his smile was worrying me slightly.

"When are you heading to Sheffield?" Sirius asked me in a would-be causal voice.

"In about half an hour." I replied as Sirius handed me my coffee. Sirius licked his lips and gave me now-hear-me-out look.

"Let me come with you." He said and I opened my mouth to protest but Sirius cut me off. "Look, the werewolf is not going to care that I'm a convict – he wont turn me in, he'd get nicked himself if he did. And he might be dangerous, it might help to have me there."

Sirius looked at me earnestly but I wasn't convinced. I gave him an apologetic look.

"I know how much you want to be involved-" Sirius cut me off with just a scowl.

"No you don't." He said firmly without raising his voice. Tonk's eyes flicked between the two of us and I could tell she was feeling awkward. "You don't know what it's like to have the Order treat you like you're a...a liability. They all love you. And Molly telling me I can't look after Harry..."

Sirius looked away from me at that point and I saw him look shiftily at Tonks, and I knew he wished she wasn't here. Sirius turned back to me.

"It matters to me, how he sees me." Sirius told me in a rushed whisper.

"Harry already has a very high opinion of you. He wouldn't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger just to prove something." I said quietly. I glanced at Tonks again who was, out of politeness, staring intently at the Daily Prophet and trying not to listen.

"I wouldn't be in any danger!" Sirius hissed. "He would never turn me in..."

"How do you know that?" I said. "He might think by turning you in he'd gain favour with the magical world. And what if someone else saw you? And Sirius, It's not just your safety I'm thinking of. If anyone saw me with you, my cover would be blown. Then there would be two of us hiding from the law."

There was flash in his eyes and for a second I knew Sirius was thinking that he would quite like it if I were an outlaw with him. But then the flash was gone, and was replaced by frustrated angry submission. He breathed out sharply, gave Tonks an unfriendly look then left the room. I knew better than to follow him. Tonks bit her lip as she looked at me.

"He'll be fine." I assured, though there was little conviction in my voice.

"I don't know...He spends an awful lot of time locked in this house." Tonks said sadly. "If I were in his position I would have taken Buckbeak and flown away already."

I sighed and rubbed my eyebrow. "No, here cares too much for Harry and the rest of us to ever do that."

"I hate seeing him like this, though." I added quietly after a long silence.

"I've got a day off today," Tonks told me, "I'll hang around and try and cheer him up a bit."

"Thanks." I said before taking a large gulp of my coffee.

A short while later and I was walking down a silent forlorn street in the north of England. The sun was still low in the sky, and I squinted as I made my way to the battered cottage at the end of a row of terraced houses. The house was largely obscured by the overgrown garden, which threatened to consume it in ivy. I pushed open the rotting wooden gate and made my way along the gravel path, that had shrunk to a quarter of its original size as a result of the grass growing through it and around it. I noticed beer cans, crisp packets, old newspapers, old tires and a shopping basket nestled amongst the grass, obviously having been thrown into the garden by uncaring passers-by. The front door had once been blue but was now a dirty grey colour and peeling in several places. There was no knocker, and the doorbell had been pulled off so that only bare wires remained sticking out of the doorframe, so I knocked the door with my fist. While I waited for someone to come I looked at the crumbling walls and grimy sash windows. Several panes were missing and had been replaced with wooden boards. I could not see into the house through any of them because all the curtains were drawn. I had a feeling it had been years since they were last opened.

I waited several minutes more, but no-one came to the door so, after a quick glance to check no muggles were watching, I took out my wand and whispered "alohomora." The door clicked open and I gently pushed it. It creaked loudly as if it was unaccustomed to being opened, and I stepped inside.

The faded green carpet of the hallway was almost completely obscured with dirt and litter. Letters from over two years ago still rested on the floor where they had landed after being forced through the rusting letter box. Mud and rotting leaves surrounded the cardboard boxes and broken furnishings that had been abandoned in the hallway. And Scrawled onto the walls in chalk were pictures of the full moon. I don't know whether it was because of their slightly jagged appearance or because I had not expected to be faced with a vision of the full moon, but I shuddered when I saw them, and felt an echo of my greatest fear: a full moon that took me by surprise.

I took a deep breath, stepped over the grime and headed towards the first door off the hallway. When I reached it I knocked on it, then tried to push it open after there was no answer. The door was difficult to open probably because there was something on the other side obstructing it. Eventually I managed to open it enough to poke my head around the door. I winced at the stale stench of damp and rotting that hung in the air. The room was full of rubbish, old dirty clothes, what looked like rat droppings, and broken furniture. No sign of anything living apart from several species of fungus. I pulled my head back into the hall and carried on to the door at the end. I had more luck with this one. On the other side was what once must have been a kitchen and adjoining conservatory, but now it was a veritable forrest of magical and mundane plants. Abyssianian shrivelfigs hung from the ceiling, truly beautiful fly-traps and pitcher plants sat in large terracotta pots, asphodel grew over the old kitchen work surfaces, what looked like young Devil's snare fronds poked out through gaps in the old kitchen cupboards, and the conservatory too looked full of japanese daisies, flutterby bushes, hellebore, cactuses, and venemous tentacula.

Hidden among the foliage was the man I was looking for. His name was Vincent Greer, he was about 5'5'', and although human society had more or less abandoned him – or he had abandoned it – as a werewolf he was revered. He was the leader of a pack, or so I had heard, so not only was he an important source of intelligence, if I could get him on the Order's side he would be a useful ally.

"Ah!" Greer cried when he saw me. In surprise, he dropped the mister he had been spraying the tentacula with. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He demanded in an oddly high pitched voice as he hid behind a spider plant.

"My name is Remus Lupin." I said politely, edging my way through the forest towards him.

"I know who you are!" Greer squeaked.

"I sent you a letter." I added.

"I didn't get it." Greer said still peering at me from behind the plant. I noticed a dirty hand reach towards a pair of blue spectacles sitting next to some empty pots. He snatched them then put them on his face, which was mostly wiry grey beard.

"Oh." I said awkwardly. Greer poked his head above the plant for a few seconds, presumably to get a better look at me, before ducking back down. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I did knock."

"My human ears are a bit deaf." Greer explained. Cautiously he picked up the water mister, and after a pause, he began to spray his plants again.

"This is an impressive collection of plants." I remarked genially, as took a closer look at some of them.

"Mm. Herbology...it's...it's my thing." Greer said eyeing me suspiciously.

"Gosh, is that Dittany?" I asked as I gazed in awe at the pleasant smelling blue-green leaves of a dittany shrub. Dittany was one of the more expensive components of wolfsbane and hardly ever grew in a British climate, in fact I thought it only grew wild on the mountains of Crete. Greer obviously looked after it well.

"Yes. I have Wolfsbane and Hellebore as well." Greer said with a hint of pride. "I cannot make wolfsbane potion, but if you powder the three ingredients and burn them...the smell...it is calming."

"Really?" I said, the intrigue in my voice impossible to hide.

"You can't have any!" Greer hissed, and I smiled.

"Mr Greer, I would like to ask you a few questions." I said politely.

"No." Greer snapped.

"Please, Mr Greer. I don't want anything from you, other than information."

"Information is dangerous."

"So is not having it. Mr Greer I don't know if you are aware, but they say you-know-who has returned -"

"Yes I know." Greer said impatiently. "I wont tell you anything, leave me alone."

I sighed as Greer scuttled towards the open door of the conservatory to the garden. Not to be defeated, I followed him into the garden. Like the back room, the garden was full of carefully grown plants of all kinds. I found Greer sitting on an upturned bucket under a large apple tree.

"Mr Greer," I said gently. "Your house...It is very uncared for. I could help make it more liveable, if you wanted."

Mr Greer scratched at the rough cloth shirt he was wearing and eyed my wand nervously. I wasn't certain, but I think Greer was a squib. His nervousness in my company regrettably seemed to indicate that he had been ill-treated by people capable of magic in the past.

"No! I don't want you to! Please go away!" Greer exclaimed standing up and shaking his hands in front of me. I bit my lip and wondered what I could do to change his mind.

"Er, very well." I said clasping my hands together. I looked down at the neat pathway that snaked in between the packed flowerbeds. Then I glanced back at Greer who was casually stroking the leaves of on the the apple tree branches. His house was certainly a wreck, but he cared for his plants like they were his children. There was a kindness in him, I just had to appeal to it.

"You know," I began, "I said that I could help you, but really, I am the one in need of help."

Greer looked suspiciously at me.

"I've been charged with the task of discouraging werewolves to join you-know-who, but I am as disconnected from them as I am the wizarding world." I said. It was nearly true. Greer scrunched his nose up as he thought.

"You are." He said. "I've heard about you, you know. You were a teacher, and a scholar. An educated werewolf...That's what we could call you, the learned one."

I frowned at Greer's odd choice of words: _that's what we could call you? _

"You are not like me, or the others. We embrace who we are!" Greer scowled at me like I had personally offended him. "I do not fear the full moon like you do."

I breathed in and out slowly and looked down at the grass unsure how to pull the conversation back onto my ground.

"It doesn't have to be violent." Greer said and I looked back at him. "When werewolves are together...they are calmer. And did you know, that werewolves can be calmed by the presence of other animals – and even wizards in animal form!"

I smiled suddenly, "yes I did know that." Greer blinked in surprise and he smiled briefly, but his face soon became sour once more.

"But still! You like human things, human life. You dream of having a nice house and a normal family. Nice magical children who will go to Hogwarts, a pretty wife who will bake cakes while you read the paper. You want all those normal things. You spurn your animal side."

"It is true, I would love a life like that. I do like 'human things', as you put it. But I don't reject my other self. I accept it's part of me."

"Liar. Look how many scars I have, compared to you!" Greer cried holding out his arms. I noticed they were almost completely free of the whitish streaks that littered my body. "You think it is the wolf attacking the human in you during full moons – but it is not! It is the human in you attacking the wolf! I cannot help you!"

"Wait – what help is it that you presume I need?" I asked as I had started to wonder if Greer had misunderstood my intentions.

"You want to join my pack."

"Oh!" I said smiling awkwardly, "that's not what I wanted." Greer gave me a confused look and fiddled with his beard.

"Really, I just wanted to ask you a few questions about it." I explained. Greer winced again, but despite his reluctance I eventually managed to get him to tell me about his pack.

It was hard to imagine Greer as this important leader of a group of very dangerous beings. You would expect someone like that to be much more imposing than Greer was. Greer was a shy and eccentric human being, but he really was an important werewolf; and a peaceful one. Or at least, as peaceful as a monster hell bent on destroying humanity can be. Every full moon Greer met with about eight other werewolves, and they all transformed together. Greer said that by being in a group each werewolf could learn to control their urge to kill. Greer claimed that he almost felt himself during the full moons, and because he had developed such self control he and a few of the others who took wolfsbane could control the less disciplined werewolves. It was more or less the same system that the Marauders had during full moons. I didn't realise werewolves could exert the same calming effect on each other as Padfoot and Prongs could on me.

"Who are the werewolves that join you on the full moon?" I asked as Greer and I sat underneath the apple tree.

"If I knew I couldn't tell you. They keep their human identities secret." Greer told me, and I sighed. I had suspected that would be the case.

"I wondered if a werewolf called Anthony Driscoll was with you. I met him once, but he seems to have disappeared."

"He is not part of my pack. He er..." Greer glanced nervously around his garden, "he was, for a short while. But he was supposed to transform at the ministry, so those heartless people could cage the poor man."

"Yes, I know. That is where I met him." I confessed and Greer's pale blue eyes widened in shock.

"Oh no." He said quietly. "I feel sorry for you. Did you bite someone like Anthony did?"

"No, uh, it's a long story."

"Oh. Well, the ministry came after Anthony and he had to run from them. I have not seen him since. I fear they may have tortured him for information about my pack." Greer' shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath and he stared sadly at the ground. "The ministry don't like the idea of a group of us together."

"He is not in ministry custody at the moment." I said.

"Do you think they have killed him?" Greer murmured worriedly.

"No, I don't think they ever captured him." I said, thinking of the intelligence Kingsley had provided me with.

"Good...He was a nice boy really – he just hadn't learnt how to control himself yet." Greer said balling his hands into fists and I was touched by how much Greer seemed to care for the werewolves that followed him. "The boy Anthony bit is still with us."

"Really? He's a muggle right?"

"Yes. He finds it quite hard, but he's come a long way since he first came to me."

"Did it not cause a lot of tension for he and Anthony to be in the same pack?"

"It did at first, but the muggle boy forgave Anthony when he saw how distraught with guilt he was. He understood Anthony didn't mean it. It would be a different matter if he had been bitten by someone like Greyback."

The hairs on the back of my neck raised and my muscles tensed at the sound of his name. Greer didn't notice, and I don't think he realised my connection with Greyback.

"Do you know much about Greyback?"

"I know he is in Azkaban. I encountered him once or twice when I was younger – but our philosophies on lycanthropy are quite different." Greer scowled and stroked the trunk of the apple tree as if comforting it. "I want to search for the wolf's peaceful side – he wants to exploit its violent side. He really is a monster."

With a twist in my gut I remembered the monster sinking his teeth into my shoulder. I automatically rubbed the scar he had left me with.

"Do you know if there are any other werewolves who might be tempted to take Greyback's attitude?" I asked.

"Oh of course! We are treated so awfully by human kind. Every werewolf I meet harbours some anger towards them that Greyback could easily exploit." Greer said bitting his lip in anxiety. "Which is why I'm so glad he is locked away."

"And what about you-know-who? Do you think many werewolves could be persuaded to fight for him?"

"Why are you asking this? I thought it was just a rumour that he was back?" Greer asked timidly.

"I'm afraid it's not just a rumour. You-know-who has indeed returned. He is just keeping himself hidden." I said gravely.

"It depends what was offered in exchange." Greer said sadly in answer to my previous question. "I would never work for him – I would never let myself be used just as a weapon – a tool! No matter how much gold he offered me. But the others...I don't know."

Greer looked up at the sun which was now beating down upon us, and then at his precious plants.

"Well, Mr Greer, thank you for answering my questions." I said standing up. Greer stood up as well and I held out my hand for him to shake. He looked at is suspiciously for a few minutes then he took hold of it and quickly shook my hand before abruptly letting go.

"If you ever need anything, help of any kind, please write to me." I said earnestly. "I know you think our philosophies about lycanthropy are very different – but they're not really."

Slowly Greer nodded.

I returned to Grimmauld Place later that day, with an Order report already formulated in my mind, though I wasn't sure whether the rest of the Order would be as interested in Vincent Greer as I was. Which was frustrating, because such an influential and peaceful werewolf would need the Order's protection. However, I put my report to one side, and spent the afternoon helping Sirius and the children clean the house. I was very pleased to find that Sirius' mood had improved. No doubt recounting to Harry stories of the mischief he and Harry's father used to get up to had had a cheering effect.

By four we had just about finished and Tonks instructed me to go down to the kitchen to get some chocolate frogs for us all. I had just sat down on one of the dusty sofas in the drawing room so wasn't all that eager to get on my feet again. Upon seeing my reluctant expression she smirked.

"Go on Remus! I know you have a whole stash in one of the cupboards." She said. I rolled my eyes and poked my tongue out at her. She winked at me and after a mental groan of longing I stood up. As I made my way to the door, Ron suddenly let out a girly scream. He leapt from the floor where he had been sitting and onto the sofa. I looked down and saw that the source of his fear was an enormous spider (about the size of a cat) that had decided to make a dash for the door. With a flick of my wand I immobilised it.

"Must have escaped from the dining room, when we were getting rid of them the other day." Ginny observed wisely.

"Gave you a fright did it little Ronnikins?" Fred teased.

"Piss of, look at the size of it!" Ron defended pointing at the petrified arachnid.

"They _are_ a bit scary." Hermione said, looking at the spider with a studious expression. I picked up the immobilised spider by its rotund hind part and looked at its ugly eight-eyed face. There was an intake of breath as the rest of the room expressed their shock that I would pick up something so vile with my bare hands. Sirius looked especially aghast and disgusted that I would pick it up, so I grinned and held the spider in his face whilst making an 'oooh' sound. Sirius recoiled and yelled at me.

"Urgh! Get it away from me!" He cried. I chuckled, as did a few of the others, and looked at it again.

"You know, I think they are less frightening when they are this size." I remarked casually. "It's the medium-sized ones that are the scariest – the ones that are about as big as your hand. Those could crawl down that back of your shirt or hide in your shoes. These big ones are...sort of like cats."

"What? They are in no way like cats!" Sirius argued, looking at me as if I was crazy.

"Alright, very ugly cats." I said with a shrug.

"Go and get the chocolate, you crazy spider-lover. Honestly, you are as bad as Hagrid." Tonks cried out while the kids laughed. I laughed as well and headed down to the kitchen, depositing the spider into the box full of them in the hall as I passed.

I sought out the chocolate frogs and when I returned to the drawing room I found that it had turned into some kind of jazz party. Sirius and Tonks were at the piano, Sirius sitting on the stool Tonks standing slightly behind him leaning down to reach the keys. They were bashing away at the old thing with vigour forcing the baby grand to emit a very impressive accompaniment to Ray Charles' 'Hit the Road Jack'. They were singing as well. I had entered just as they got to a call and response section that seemed to have been written for them.

"Well baby, oh baby, don't ya treat me this way, 'cause I'll be back on my feet some day!" Sirius sang with a huge smile on his face.

"Don't care if you do 'cos it's understood you ain't got a-no money you just ain't no good..." Tonks sang back in her sublimely sexy voice.

"Well I guess if you say so, I have to pack my things and go!" Continued Sirius.

"That's right!" Tonks cut across in perfect harmony.

Then together they sang: "Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more..." while the Weasley kids and Harry and Hermione cheered and sang along. I smiled but felt a weird twist of jealousy. Sirius and Tonks just got on so well, like they had been friends all their lives. They were both so lively and witty, I couldn't really compete. Sirius finished the song with a jazzy flourish and the Weasleys applauded them enthusiastically. Tonks gave a comical bow and Sirius said:

"Thank you thank you, we shall be here for the rest of eternity – well I will anyway."

I walked towards them and handed out the chocolate frogs which were received with enthusiasm.

"That was really good." Harry told Sirius with a smile.

Sirius smiled back, "what sort if music are you into then?"

"Oh, er, I dunno. I never got to listen to much at the Dursley's," Harry explained, "Dudley threw a few of his CDs at me once, but well he hasn't got the greatest taste. And wizard music-"

"Is rubbish. I know." Sirius finished.

"Oi! The Weird Sisters are _not_ rubbish!" Tonks argued.

"Come on, they are just ripping off Fleetwood Mac." Sirius returned.

"Okay, so they may have been _influenced_ by Fleetwood Mac, but they have their own style."

"Who are Fleetwood Mac?" Harry asked.

"You don't know Fleetwood Mac? Not even The Chain?" Sirius questioned with incredulity. Harry shrugged and shook his head.

"Come on, I have the record downstairs." Sirius said standing up and beckoning Harry to follow. Once they had left I leant on the piano next to Tonks.

"His mood seems to have improved leaps and bounds since this morning." I remarked.

"Yeah." She said. "He loves having Harry around. I think Harry asked if he could live here if his trial doesn't go well."

"What did Sirius say?" I asked her in little more than a whisper as I watched Ginny and George arm wrestle for the last chocolate frog while the rest of the children cheered them on.

"Oh nothing really." Tonks replied quietly. "I could tell he wanted to say yes though." Tonks raised one eyebrow, silently checking with me that Sirius wasn't half hoping Harry would get expelled.

"He wants Harry acquitted just as much as the rest of us, don't worry."

"He'll get off won't he? Harry I mean." Tonks asked me slightly nervously.

"Underage wizards are allowed to use magic in a life threatening situation. If the Ministry of Magic has any understanding of their own legal system he should be fine."

"Yeah that's what I'm worried about – I'm not sure they do."

(fyi: 'clatter' = irish slang for punch in the face. :) )


	53. The Woes of Mrs Weasley

**Now, the title of this chapter and a lot of the speech in it are taken from the chapter with the same name in Order of the Phoenix, so I take no credit for those words :) Again, sorry this has taken a while...real life is getting in the way a bit. **

**53 The Woes of Mrs Weasley**

Of course we weren't worried. Well, that was the official party line. However, I think given the enthusiasm of Harry's reception when he returned from his hearing at the ministry, he must have had a suspicion that we were all more worried than we let on. He himself had looked extraordinarily nervous the morning of his hearing, and I really felt for him. The day Dumbledore found out that I had almost killed Snape, I was sent to his office, and I had been absolutely sure then, that Dumbledore was about to expel me; so I knew what it felt like to entertain the possibility that you might never see Hogwarts again, and I knew just how unpleasant that feeling was. But justice prevailed and Harry was cleared of all charges.

As august raced towards September Sirius boomeranged back into a foul mood again. It was obvious why: Harry would be leaving soon. Sirius knew Harry belonged at Hogwarts, but he was going to miss him. To Sirius, the few weeks of August he had spent with Harry had passed all too quickly. The Weasleys would be leaving as well, and although at times Sirius found their presence trying, he far preferred it to an empty house. I assured him that Tonks and I would be there most of the time, but it didn't seem to make much difference. Comforting words were apparently too weak a remedy for his manic depression.

It was the last day of August, a tuesday, and I had convinced Sirius to give his opinion on the truly ancient dress robes I was going to wear to the SWAMP (Society for Wizard and Muggle Peacefulness) ball that weekend, with the killer argument "well it's better than spending the whole day as a dog".

"What's this ball for again?" Sirius asked me as I stood in front of the mirror in Regulus' room with the frock coat of my dress robes on over my jeans.

"To raise awareness about muggles." I replied distractedly, as I was too busy worrying about whether it was obvious that I had sown together a seam on my shoulder with brown rather than black thread.

"Is that really needed? I mean they do outnumber us three to one. I think if wizards don't know about them yet we've got more to worry about than I thought."

"Oh you know what I mean, Padfoot." I said. "There's been so much anti-muggle propaganda recently – that they are violent, that living near a muggle house will give you squib children – the ball is trying to counter that a bit."

"I see." Sirius murmured making it obvious he wasn't really interested."Are you taking the kids to Kings Cross tomorrow?"

I saw his shoulder's droop as he inspected my bow tie which hung over the end of the bed.

"Yes, with Tonks and Moody." I replied. Sirius sighed deeply and I felt a tugging in my chest.

It was against my better judgement, and I knew Dumbledore would dissaprove, but I found myself saying: "Why don't you come?"

"What?"

"Come with us – to say goodbye to Harry and the others."

"But...'what if someone sees me'?" Sirius said imitating my gravelly voice and mild irish accent.

"You'd have to stay as a dog the whole time." I said, and Sirius face cracked into a grin instantly brightening his ageing face.

"Anyway, what do you think? Does it look okay?" I said turning back to the mirror and doing up the buttons on the front.

"Yeah." Sirius said stepping towards me and putting his hands in his pockets. "You've looked after it well."

"You don't think it looks faded?" I asked. I bought this set of dress robes when I was twenty one, a shocking fourteen years ago. It was very plain, black with a silk lapel and some embroidery on the cuffs. But it wasn't cheap – not by my standards anyway.

"No, it looks great." Sirius said sincerely. "She wont be able to resist you." He added after few moments.

"What? Who wont?" I asked suddenly on edge as I inspected Sirius' sly smile.

"The girl you are trying to impress." He replied.

"I'm not trying impress anyone." I lied.

"Sure." Said Sirius sarcastically, "Just like Andromeda's party." I made a show of rolling my eyes as I took off the robes. Sirius just smiled at me and I worried about how much he knew. He must have twigged by now. Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Sirius and I called at the same time. The door opened and a basket of dirty laundry appeared followed shortly by Molly Weasley.

"Oh Remus, you look very handsome." She said as if talking to one of her sons.

"Er, thank you." I said sheepishly.

"I just wanted to know if either of you wanted anything from Diagon Alley. Ginny and I are going in this afternoon to get the kid's schoolbooks." She said.

"No thank you Molly, I don't think I need anything." I said taking off the coat.

"What about you Sirius?"

"You have a much better knowledge of this house's inventory than I do." Was Sirius' response.

Molly sighed, "fair enough."

"Mu-uum!" Ginny suddenly cried from somewhere downstairs.

Molly leaned her head out of my bedroom door, "Yes dear? What is it?"

"Have you seen my hairbrush?"

"No I haven't. When did you last see it?"

"When I was brushing my hair." Ginny replied sardonically. Molly looked back to Sirius and I with a roll of her eyes and the two of us smiled as we remembered what it was like to be a teenager.

"Buckbeak might have her hairbrush." Sirius suggested.

"Buckbeak? What would Buckbeak be doing with a hairbrush?"

"Er, he likes to play with them. He pretends they are hedgehogs I think." Sirius said with a shrug.

"Right, well could you ask him if Ginny could have it back?" Molly said in a slightly mocking tone. Sirius gave her a lopsided grin.

"Of course." He said, and Molly left to help her kin.

"She really doesn't like me." Sirius said after she had left.

"It's all in your head, Padfoot." I said as I hung my dress robes back in the wardrobe.

"How are we getting the kids to Kings Cross then?" Sirius said as he opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

"Just going to walk I think, it's not very far from here." I replied following him, "Moody wants Harry to go with a guard."

"Is that really needed? It'll be broad daylight." Said Sirius as we made our way downstairs.

"I know, I don't think it is really necessary, but better safe than sorry. We are going to go in three groups I think. Tonks and Moody are coming with us – and Sturgis as well."

We got to the third floor and suddenly heard someone scream from downstairs. Sirius and I looked at each other. The shrieking continued but it didn't sound unhappy. No it was definitely happy shrieking, though I couldn't make out any words.

"I wonder what's happened." I mused calmly.

"That's definitely Molly's voice." Sirius added.

"A Galleon says the kids are packed."

"No way." Sirius replied. "Oh wait, I know what is is. Harry, Ron and Hermione are going into their fifth year right? Isn't that when prefects are chosen?"

"Oh damn, yes. I want to change my bet."

"No! You will accept your defeat like the loser that you are." Sirius reprimanded.

"Little Ronnie, a prefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks...A prefect...oh, I'm all of a dither!" We heard Molly cry happily. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. I would have thought Harry was the more obvious choice for Gryffindor prefect. Prefects were generally chosen for their maturity and leadership skills, and of the Gryffindor boys, Harry was the most natural leader. However, with Voldemort after his blood and the Daily Prophet labelling him as a mad man, maybe Dumbledore thought Harry had enough stresses to be dealing with without the added responsibilities of a prefect; and perhaps Dumbledore thought that giving Ron the extra responsibility was just what he needed to unlock his potential.

"Alright, I wasn't excepting it to be Ron, but you still lost Moony." Sirius hissed. I rolled my eyes and shoved a galleon into Sirius' hand.

Hermione had also been made a prefect – but that really was no surprise – and to celebrate their success Molly decided to throw a little party that evening. Tonks arrived at Grimmauld Place at about six with Kingsley Shacklebolt, just as Sirius and I were magically hanging up a banner that read "Congratulations Ron and Hermione new prefects!" in shimmering gold lettering. Tonks' hair was its natural length today, and a very vivid red not dissimilar to Ginny's tomato-red locks, which was an untypical colour for Tonks to wear. However, vivid red felt like crunchy dry leaves to her, if I remembered correctly, and when I asked, she told me that morphing her hair to that colour helped her cope with the prickly feeling she felt whenever she looked at the Weasley's orange-red hair. Whatever her reasons for morphing her hair however, she looked very beautiful.

"Oh wow! They've been made prefects!" Tonks exclaimed as she walked into the kitchen and admired the banner. "Mad-Eye will love this: 'gotta watch yourself! Position of authority – always a target', you wait." She added doing a very impressive imitation of Moody.

"But isn't it good news?" Molly said happily. "I wanted to celebrate."

"Of course! Great idea!" Tonks replied enthusiastically. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Er..." Said Molly tentatively, remembering how many items of crockery were broken last time Tonks tried to help in the kitchen. "I think everything is about done actually."

Molly pointed her wand at the oven and summoned a tray of baked potatoes from inside it. She caught the tray with an oven-gloved hand and began to transfer them to a serving dish.

"I could butter them. I'm sure I can't do much harm there." Tonks said a little crestfallen.

"Yes, alright." Molly reluctantly acquiesced gesturing towards the butter dish. While Tonks cut open and buttered the baked potatoes, Kingsley discussed the ball with Molly.

"It's going to be a bigger event than I thought actually," Kingsley said, "SWAMP have managed to get Transfiguration Today to sponsor it. I'm not sure their shareholders will approve of them associating with a pro-muggle movement though."

"Maybe the ball will change their minds." Molly offered hopefully as she watched Tonks with mild displeasure: clearly the haphazard way Tonks was dolloping butter onto the potatoes was not to Molly's liking.

"I'm excited about it." Tonks said, oblivious to Molly's frown. "I haven't been to a ball since school."

"I didn't know _you_ were going to this thing as well, Tonks?" Sirius suddenly questioned. Up till that point, Sirius had been magically carving small scorpions into the shelving units, but now he was disproportionately interested in the conversation.

"Yeah. A bunch of us from the department are going, right Kingsley?" Tonks replied.

"Yes, Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour...Mafalda Hopkirk." Said Kingsley.

"Did you know Tonks was going, Remus?" Sirius then asked me, his silver eyes glinting mischievously.

I gave a small nod and mumbled "Mm" in response, hoping Sirius wouldn't put two and two together. But he saw through my poker face – as he always did.

"Of course you knew!" He declared knowingly, before letting out a loud bark of laughter. "I _knew_ it!" He added giving me a meaningful stare.

"Knew what? What's so funny?" Tonks asked.

"Oh nothing little cousin." Sirius said happily, walking over to Tonks and throwing his arm around her. "Nothing at all." If I had known that simply acquainting him with the current status of my rather pathetic love life had such a cheering effect on Sirius I wouldn't have waisted my time being extra nice to him the past week or so.

"There's going to be dancing at this shindig right?" Tonks asked changing the subject.

"I would have thought so." Kingsley replied.

"How will you cope Lupin? You told me, you couldn't dance." Tonks said with an eyebrow arched.

"No, I said that I _don't_ dance, usually – I never said I couldn't." I corrected as I remembered the conversation we had had at her mother's birthday party.

"_C__an_ you dance then? I wont let you waltz with me if you have no timing." Tonks asked.

"Of course I can." I said cooly.

"I need a second opinion." Tonks said narrowing her eyes and turning to Sirius. "Is it true? Can he dance?"

"Yeah, Moony can dance." Sirius admitted somewhat reluctantly. "It was James who was the terrible dancer. He danced like a granddad. He used to do that twist thing remember? With his arse sticking out."

Sirius mimicked the slightly constipated expression James used to pull when he danced and gave us a rendition of his ungainly two-step, much to everyone's amusement.

"You wont be able to dance with Remus though, Tonks." Kingsley said seriously once we had all stopped sniggering.

"Why not?" Tonks asked with sincere disappointment.

"You can't really be seen to be friends in public. It wouldn't be good for the Order." Kingsley said with a frown.

"It would probably be better to keep your distance from me in front of your other work colleagues as well, Tonks." I said quietly. "It doesn't send a good signal: a dark wizard catcher friends with a dark creature."

"Oh." Tonks said sadly and she looked at me like she still couldn't quite believe what I was. "Oh well, it's probably for the best, I'd only end up stepping on your feet anyway."

I paused, "I'm sure mildly bruised insoles would be a small price to pay to get to dance with you."

Tonks smiled and asked: "why are you so nice to me?"

Sirius laughed so hard he almost cried. Although it was at my expense, it was the first time Sirius had really properly laughed in about a week, so I couldn't be completely irritated. Tonks alternated between looking at Sirius like he was having a fit and demanding that he tell her what was so funny. Kingsley made no comment: presumably he thought this was just part of Sirius' endearing madness. Eventually Tonks got so frustrated with Sirius she knocked the butter dish onto the floor. Thankfully Harry and the others entered the kitchen at the point and Tonks was able to surreptitiously put the butter dish back on the table and pick out the flecks of dirt that had stuck to the butter before Molly noticed.

As Molly's impromptu celebration got under way I noticed Harry seemed a little subdued. I wondered if he was a disappointed about not being made a prefect. Tonks seemed to notice as well because she told Harry animatedly that she had never been made a prefect – she was too much of a mischief maker apparently, which really didn't surprise me.

"What about you Sirius?" Ginny asked, "were you ever a prefect?"

I smirked and Sirius laughed, "No one would have made me a prefect, I spent far too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."

Sirius slapped his hand on my shoulder and Tonks and the kids looked at me expectantly.

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends, I need scarcely say that I failed dismally." Memories of my vain attempts to reign in my friends wayward sense of fun played out inside my mind. In fact, trying to give detentions to James and Sirius for skiving charms or hexing Slytherins was probably the best duelling training I could have got. Harry's face cracked into the first genuine smile I had seen in a while, and he looked as if a weight had suddenly lifted off his shoulders.

While we helped ourselves to food Sirius discussed Quidditch with Harry, Ron and Ginny and Hermione sought me out for some prefect advice.

"I think I remember seeing your name on the list of school prefects in the trophies room." She informed me, and I smiled politely while I felt Tonks silently snigger as she sat next to me. "I understand it's quite a lot of responsibility isn't it? You've got to sort of be a role model, and a uh, spokesperson for the student body."

"Yes, I suppose you do." I replied. "The younger years especially look up to you. First years often come to you for advice."

Hermione bit her lip as she thought about what she might have to do as a school prefect. While she ruminated I glanced at Tonks, who was smirking.

"I knew you'd be a prefect." She whispered in that seductive voice of hers.

"How? How can you tell?" I whispered back.

"It is just obvious that you were far too well-behaved at school." Tonks said.

"I assure you I wasn't. I just never got caught." I replied so that only Tonks could hear. It thrilled me to see the sparkle in her eyes as they turned from blue to gold. The thrill was short-lived however, as Sirius shot me a knowing glance from the other side of the room.

"I think it will help me promote SPEW, being a prefect I mean." Hermione continued pulling my attention away from Tonks. "I wanted to talk to you about that as well actually, do you mind?"

"Not at all." I said politely, as Tonks drifted away from me to talk to Bill about how he was getting on with Fleur. "What does it stand for again?"

"The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare." Said Hermione. "My long term goals are to get elves wages and decent working conditions, because at the moment, well, they are slaves! I think it's awful that no-one has protested before me. I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures."

"Sadly, I think you are right Hermione. Wizards like to be in control – no matter what the cost. However, as noble as your cause is, you have a problem: elves like to serve humans, they help us from their inherent generous nature – they would see wages as an insult."

"I'm sure that's just a cultural norm – it could be changed."

"I don't know if it will be that easy. Perhaps wages isn't the best thing to give them in exchange for their services." I suggested. "Perhaps they would prefer increased freedom to wages."

While Hermione considered my suggestion I struggled to take my eyes off Tonks, even with Sirius watching me like a hawk. I loved the way she moved her hands when she spoke. In fact, I loved the way she moved full stop. Alright, she was a little clumsy, she tripped over things easily and hardly went five minutes without knocking something over, but that was only because she had so much energy and vibrancy in her that she had little time to pay attention to her surroundings. After an embarrassing length of time spent gazing longingly at her from across the room I decided to throw caution to the wind and actually speak to her. We discussed the book she was reading (Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne) and then the morality of vengeance and punishment (at a rational level, both of us were against the old eye for and eye maxim, generally we saw punishment as a deterrent and a means of protecting the law abiding from harm, and that was all – however, we recognised that there were events in our own pasts where our moral beliefs and our emotional reactions didn't quite correspond).

Our cosy discussion in the corner of the kitchen was ended when Ron came to show us his new broomstick. Having been on the Quidditch team herself when she was at school (as a beater, she was far too uncoordinated for anything else) Tonks left my side to admire the broom. While Ron told her about all of its safety features, I spoke to Kingsley, who was also surprised that Harry had not been made a prefect.

"He'll have had his reasons," I said simply when Kingsley questioned Dumbledore's decision.

"But it would've shown confidence in him. It's what I'd've done, 'specially with the Daily Prophet having a go at him every few days."

"I think being made a prefect would just have attracted more media attention." I argued. "Perhaps Dumbledore thinks that Harry has enough to be dealing with at the moment."

Kingsley nodded in agreement.

"Well congrats on the prefect thing, Ron." I head Tonks say before she wondered back towards Kingsley and I.

"Cheers Tonks." Ron said a grin stretched from ear to ear, before he darted off to speak to Hermione.

"Well, folks I gotta go." Tonks announced.

"Already?" I couldn't help but say.

"Yeah, sorry." She said. "It's Avery's trial tomorrow afternoon and I'm a witness, so I wanted to read through my notes before bed."

"Right. Of course"

"I'm a bit nervous 'cos, you know, this is my first big case – I need it to go well."

"Don't worry Tonks, you'll be fine." I said earnestly. She smiled and tucked a loose strand of her bright red hair behind her ear, making me notice the pretty freckles she had across her nose.

"Thanks Remus." She said, "anyway, I'll be back bright an early tomorrow for the exodus of the Weasleys. And Harry. And Hermione."

Kingsley decided to leave as well and I offered to let the two aurors out, but was saved the trouble by Molly who was heading upstairs to bed anyway. With some regret I said goodbye to Tonks at the kitchen door. I knew I would see her again in just nine hours, but that still seemed such such a long time. Once she was gone the party seemed to loose its flavour.

Dung had already left and Moody had gone off somewhere. Harry too had disappeared. Arthur, Bill and Sirius were sitting at the far end of the table obviously beginning to feel the pull of sleep. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins seemed to be the only ones with any energy left, and they continued to chatter noisily about who the new defence against the dark teacher would be. Moody had decided that he could better serve the order if he was out in the field investigating Death Eaters, so Dumbledore had had to look elsewhere for a DADA teacher. I had no idea who he had managed to convince to take the job, but evidently he had found someone because they had set a new text book. Not a very good one, mind: Defence Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard was an informative book I suppose, but it was excessively dull. Anyone with any experience teaching should know that children learn nothing when they were bored, so judging from the new DADA professor's book choice I had a feeling teaching wasn't their main profession.

I decided to head to bed so bid goodnight to everyone and slowly made my way upstairs. I got as far as the hall when Sirius caught up with me.

"You like Tonks." He announced. His tone was matter of fact, but his expression was impish.

"Of course I do. She's a lovely girl." I said innocently putting my hands in my pockets.

"I don't mean like that." Said Sirius suggestively as he leant against the garden room door. "Come on, I'm right aren't I? The way you look at her. And you can't stop smiling whenever she's near."

Sirius looked positively ecstatic. Like this was the most exciting revelation he had uncovered in months. I examined the leathery skin of the troll's leg umbrella stand and the ugly toes that Tonks tripped over so frequently. I sighed. There was no point denying the obvious.

"What's your point Sirius?" I said wearily.

"Well, are you going to do anything about it?" Sirius said with sinister glee.

"No." I said simply.

"No?" Said Sirius staring at me like I was mad.

"No."

"Why not?"

I looked at Sirius incredulously: could he really not know?

"Because, for one thing, I'm far to old for her," I began quietly, "she'll never feel the same way. She deserves a lot better than me."

"Oh, bloody hell! You say that about _everyone_!" Said Sirius crossly. "How do you know she doesn't feel the same way?Have you not noticed how she asks your opinion on everything? How she looks at you like you are a bloody work of art? Personally, I can't understand it, but it seems quite obvious she's as fascinated with you as you are with her."

"Really?" I said with genuine disbelief. I riffled through my memories for evidence of Sirius' theory. There were lots of moments that sprung into my mind. Glances, smiles, suggestive remarks. But weren't they all just in my imagination? How could I be sure I wasn't just _hoping_ to see those things? And what did it matter anyway? Even if by some miraculous twist of fate she didn't feel completely indifferent to me, nothing could happen. I could see so clearly how it would go. It would be fun at first, but all too quickly she would realise that life with a werewolf is just too hard. What with the stigma and abuse she'd get from other people, the fact that it made me so ill so often, my poverty, that I couldn't have children because of it, and of course the constant risk that I could give it to her. Sooner or later she'd realise she could be so much happier with someone else. I couldn't go through all that again. I don't think I could ever stand loosing her.

"Stop it." Sirius suddenly said.

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

"You're thinking. Stop it." Sirius said pointing an accusing finger at me. "When it comes to women, your head only ever gets in the way."

I paused to consider Sirius' suggestion, and was about to argue with him when, for the second time that day, we heard a shriek come from somewhere in the house. This time however, there was no trace of happiness in it. Sirius looked anxiously at me as if for confirmation that the scream wasn't within his own mind, then the two of us rushed upstairs. I heard Harry shouting from the drawing room so burst into the room.

"What's going on?" I demanded. Molly was staring down at the lifeless body of a young man, tears coursing down her face, her shaking hand over her mouth. The body was Harry, but of course not the real Harry: he was standing by the glass cabinets staring blankly at his own dead body. I took out my wand.

"Riddikulus!" I said firmly. The body vanished and the full moon took it's place. Like Molly, I was reminded of my worst fear: death and injury. For Molly it was the death of her own family, for me it was the death of anyone by my own hand. With some anger I swiped away the Boggart with my wand. Far from being soothed by the Boggart's absence, Molly was consumed by a fresh storm of tears.

"Molly," I said hopelessly as I walked towards her, "Molly, don't..." I put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, and to my slight surprise she collapsed into my arms. She cried heavily into my shoulder, and I patted her head.

"Molly it was just a boggart, just a stupid boggart." I said quietly.

"I see them d-d-dead all the t-t-time!" She wept. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it..."

This was how is was during the first war: we lived in constant fear. People we knew died everyday, and every night we prayed that it wouldn't be someone that we loved who died tomorrow. As I held Molly, I remembered holding my mother in the same way, as she wept after I told her that my father, the love of her life, had been killed. I had met Molly for the first time just a week later, at at the funeral of her brothers, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the very people my father had died trying to protect.

"D-d-don't tell Arthur, I d-d-don't want him to know...being silly..." Molly continued as she frantically tried to wipe the tears form her face. I wordlessly conjured a clean handkerchief and handed it to Molly, who took it gratefully and blew her nose.

"Harry, I'm so sorry." She said shakily to Harry who was standing awkwardly near the place where the vision of his own dead body had been. "What must you think of me? Not even able to get rid of a Boggart..."

"Don't be stupid." Harry said kindly, giving Molly a comforting smile.

"I'm just s-s-so worried," Molly admitted and fresh tears poured from her eyes, "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this...and P-P-Percy's not talking to us...what if something d-d-dreadful happens and we've never m-m-made it up with him? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," I insisted before Molly could go any further. "This isn't like last time. The Order are better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to-"

Molly squeaked with fear at the sound of his name.

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing his name -" I said briskly, "look, I can't promise no-one's going to hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time. You wren't in Order then, you don't understand. Last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one..."

"Don't worry about Percy," Sirius contributed, "he'll come round. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology."

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died, what do you think we'd do, let them starve?" I said smiling encouragingly at Molly who gave a weak smile in return.

"Being silly..." She mumbled.

"Come on, let's get these kids to bed and have a cup of tea." Moody said. I knew he was trying to be comforting, but Moody's gruff voice seemed to make everything he said sound like an order. By the time we reached the kitchen Molly had composed herself so that the only thing that suggested she had been crying was the slight pink tinge to the whites of her eyes. Not wanting to go against Molly's wishes I didn't tell Arthur what had happened though judging from the concerned look he was giving his wife, I think he had guessed. I stayed up for the cup of tea Moody had suggested we have, then headed to bed.

While I brushed my teeth in the bathroom that adjoined both Sirius and Regulus' rooms, Sirius sat on the toilet so he could speak to me.

"Boggarts are strange things aren't they?" He remarked thoughtfully, "you don't normally think of them as being terribly dangerous creatures, but if they catch you at the wrong moment – they can send you to pieces. When I saw Harry's body there like that -"

I spat out the foam that had gathered in my mouth, and said, "I know. It's a horrible thought."

"I try not to think about what might happen to us, when war comes. I just focus on what we can do to win it, I don't think about how things could go wrong." Said Sirius.

"I think that's probably for the best – if you worried too much about what might happen, well, you'd break down like Molly did. I know I would anyway." I said wiping the traces of toothpaste from my lips with a towel. Sirius stared into space and chewed his lip, obviously ruminating on exactly what he had said he tries not to think about.

"You know, I don't know how I'd cope if I lost you or Harry or any of our friends." Sirius admitted sadly, then he laughed, "best make sure I'm the first to go."

"Jeysus Sirius can we not talk about something else." I complained feeling like a cold claw had wrapped around my heart for a moment. Sirius just grinned.

"Alright alright," he said, "we can talk about how you want to shag my cousin."

"Forget it, I'm going to bed." I said heading to the door that led to Regulus' room.

"Oh, come on!" Sirius whined, "I've hardly had time to tease you about it yet! I've thought of some great cradle-robbing related jokes!"

"Feck off you git!"

"Fine! I've got more werewolf ones anyway." Sirius called as I opened the door. "Like if all went well and you and Tonks ended up having kids, they'd be adorable little monsters with bright pink fur."

I leaned back round the bathroom door to tell Sirius: "That was phenomenally bad."

"Now, now, save that growl for seducing Tonks! Oh! I should tell her that you like to have your belly tickled!"

"Goodnight Sirius!" I said exiting the bathroom. I shouldn't have bothered though because Sirius opened the door a second after I shut it.

"I should warn her not to let you get too amorous though, I know you have a vicious love bite!" Sirius taunted. "And I'm a great believer in safe sex, Moony, so no shagging on the full moon."

"Go to bed Sirius!" I ordered trying to push him by the head out of my room.

"Oh! One more! She needs to know the sound you make when you're really in pain, you know, just in case she's looking after you during a transformation, or you're in bed and she accidentally elbows you in the face. Just tell her, the sound is 'ow-ow-aawooooooooo!"

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" I exclaimed forcing Sirius out of the room. "Goodnight!"


	54. The Ball Part One

Another reminder that everything harry potter belongs to JKR. Also, I recommend reading the original book chapters as you read this fic because I've tried to make the story tie in as harmoniously as possible. This chapter corresponds to chapter 14 of Order of the Phoenix. Oh and one more thing – the length of this fic isn't getting you guys down is it? Or the dragged0out nature of Remus and Tonk's relationship? It will be worth it I swear – I've got some great stuff planned.

54 The Ball Part One

The first week of September had been a rather eventful one. Dumbledore had been forced by the Ministry of Magic to allow that toad of a woman Delores Umbridge to teach defence against the dark arts. Sirius said he wished he had gotten a picture of my face when I heard about this: he would have sent it to _Apicius' Wizarding Dictionary_ to put next to their definition of 'aghast'. Dumbledore also had to hire Professor Grubbly-Plank to teach Care of Magical Creatures as Hagrid had still not returned from his mission contacting the Giants; something the Order was very worried about. We had received no word from him, and no-one had heard anything about the giants through the grape-vine. But, as Moody had morbidly pointed out, "if he's been killed we'd know". In that same week, the Order received more bad news: On the night Avery was transported from Azkaban to one of the gaol cells in the Ministry, Sturgis was caught in the department of mysteries. The Order held an emergency meeting the very next day where Tonks reported the events of that night to us. She looked nervous and contrite as she gave her report, which was strange but quite sweet, because it really was in no way her fault. Only a selection of the Order were present, Moody, Snape, Kingsley, Emmeline, Arthur, Bill, Dumbledore of course, and a few others; the higher ranking members, in other words. We were all sat around the kitchen table. It was quite late, and the oil lamps in the Black kitchen were not terribly efficient illuminators; combine that with the smoke from Moody and Kingsley's pipes, and the result was a very gloomy atmosphere, which surely didn't help alleviate Tonk's nerves.

"Avery managed to dupe the hit wizards guarding him. I can't think how because he didn't have a wand." She had said.

"It could have been some kind of dark magic." Dedalus Diggle put forward.

"Or maybe he had help." Suggested Sirius, "I mean we know the Ministry has taken bribes from snakes like Lucius Malfoy, whose to say the corruption ends there."

There was a low hum of agreement.

"The hit wizards eventually found him in the department of mysteries," Tonks continued, "but he had been missing for at least twenty minutes. No-one has any idea what he was doing in that time."

"Do you think he was after the prophecy?" Bill asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably – I mean, you-know-who knows about it doesn't he?" Tonks looked towards Dumbledore.

"Yes. I'm afraid he does." Dumbledore confirmed.

"Yeah so, presumably his Death Eaters know about it too. And Avery wasn't trying to escape, he would have headed to the fireplaces in the atrium if that were the case." Continued Tonks. She paused, took a deep breath, and brushed some of her bright pink hair behind a numerously pierced ear. "When they found Sturgis he was trying to get into the hall of prophecy, so my theory is: Avery was trying to get at the prophecy and Sturgis fought with him, and ended up locked out of the hall."

"That seems very plausible, Tonks." Dumbledore remarked. "But it doesn't account for the full twenty minutes: if Avery was unarmed, then Sturgis would surely have been able to subdue him quite quickly."

"Unless, again, he had inside help." Emmeline contributed, echoing Sirius.

"Perhaps it would be wise to further scrutinise ministry workers." Kingsley suggested.

Dumbledore nodded, "I think that is a good idea. But if we suppose Avery had an accomplice, then perhaps we can assume that Sturgis was quickly overpowered – in which case we still have nearly twenty minutes unaccounted for."

"He could have been laying traps." Dedalus Diggle suggested, "for us."

"We conducted a very thorough search of the department of mysteries after Avery was caught – we didn't find any evidence of curses of hexes." Said Kingsley.

"Maybe he was sending a message." I suggested quietly, and the room turned to look at me. "He could have learnt a lot in twenty minutes about the layout of the department, the personal, all of which would be of interest to Voldemort."

"How could he get a message out though? Not with an owl – that would have been noticed..." Said Tonks.

"Perhaps Death Eaters have a special way of communicating." Said Sirius. "We should ask our resident expert." Sirius turned to Snape with a dark mocking smile.

"I do not know how Avery could have communicated with the Dark Lord." Snape said, scowling at Sirius with all the venom he could muster. "He can use the Dark Mark Death Eaters have tattooed on their arm to summon them to his side – but that is all. But there are fireplaces in the offices of the department of mysteries – perhaps Avery simply used one of those."

"Why couldn't he have escaped through one of them?" Emmeline said.

"Only the fireplaces in the atrium are enabled for travel." Answered Arthur, "You can talk to someone through office fireplaces, but you can't travel through them."

"We'll have to interrogate Avery." Kingsley said.

"What will happen to Sturgis?" Emmeline then asked concerned for our friend.

"He'll be tried next week." Kingsley said. "He's being charged with attempting to break in, which at most could get him six months in Azkaban."

"Is there nothing we can do to get him off?" Emmeline asked Kingsley.

"I'm afraid not. Not without exposing ourselves." Kingsley replied.

"I apparated to the ministry as soon as I had heard that Avery had done a runner. If I just got there sooner – I might have given Sturgis a chance to get out. I'm really sorry." Tonks said.

"Tonks you couldn't have done anything more than you did." Dumbledore assured. "It is unfortunate, but Sturgis was aware of the risks when he joined the Order."

"I feel so bad for him though." Tonks confessed quietly, and I wished she was sitting closer to me so that I could have held her hand or something – anything to take that look of sadness from her face.

"I know, poor bugger." Said Sirius with a drawn look on his face. "At least it will only be for six months."

Most of us turned to Sirius with sympathy in our eyes. Snape of course had to buck the trend: he sneered at Sirius and said: "You make yourself sound like a martyr Black – we all know you ended up in Azkaban through your own stupidity: had you not been to hell bent on killing Pettigrew you probably would never have ended up there."

Sirius' face became rigid with fury and he balled his hands into fists so tight I'm sure he was cutting his own palm with his nails. He said nothing however, with was either because he was desperately trying to be the bigger person or because, short of hexing Snape to oblivion, there simply was no way to express how unbelievably angry he was.

"Gentlemen, please, don't waste Order time with this nonsense!" Moody gruffly exclaimed forcing Snape to turn his burning eyes away from his nemesis. Sirius glanced in my direction and I gave him a consoling look, then Sirius looked towards Tonks whose method of consolation consisted of silently calling Snape a very rude name then giving Snape the finger when Moody wasn't looking. Needless to say, Tonks' method was far more effective than my own.

"As a precaution, I think from now on, guard duty should be carried out by ministry staff only." Said Dumbledore bringing everyone's attention back to the meeting. "Unfortunately this will mean some of you will have to take on a good deal more work, but I think it's the safest option.

"All those in favour raise your hand." Mad-Eye requested. The vote was reluctant but unanimous. Those of us who didn't work for the ministry didn't want to put extra pressure on those who did, and those who did surely didn't want to add more hours to their working day; but it seemed our only option.

Just a few days later, more bad news arrived by post: in a letter to Sirius, Harry had told him, in his endearing self-effacing way, that not only was Umbridge as dreadful a teacher as we suspected but his scar was hurting again. Sadly though, I didn't think there was much we do about that. With Voldemort gaining power and followers every day, the connection between him and Harry, that signalled itself through that scar, was bound to get stronger too.

I had planned to do some research on cursed scars to see if there was anything Harry could do about the pain, but my attentions were pulled elsewhere. There had been a report of a muggle-born witch killed by a vampire in southern Ireland. Because the very same witch had reported that two wizards we suspected to be Death Eaters had verbally assaulted her just two weeks previously, we immediately suspected that the Death Eaters had sent the vampire to kill her. I volunteered to investigate as naturally I assumed the vampire was Leohnard, the vampire that wanted me dead. However, it turned out that the poor witch had actually been killed by some twisted muggles who had been imitating vampires. I was gone all weekend and returned to Grimmauld place very late on the 8th of September feeling disgusted by the depravity of some human beings and frustrated that I still had no idea where Leohnard was, what he was up to and how close he was to finding me.

When I arrived at number twelve I found Sirius in no better mood. He was in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey looking bitter but also strangely guilty. It transpired that he had contacted Harry by floo and when Harry had wisely told Sirius not to visit him in person, Sirius, being the hot-headed gobshite that he was, had snapped at Harry.

"You shouldn't have been talking to him through a fireplace anyway, Sirius," I had berated,

"what if someone saw you? Umbridge will no doubt be keeping her eyes on the fireplaces at Hogwarts."

"I just wanted to see if he was alright!" Sirius had snapped back, as he sat at the kitchen table his shoulders hunched up in a defiant sulk.

"I understand Sirius, but you have to exercise some caution." I warned.

"Oh hell, you sound just like Dumbledore: 'you need to stay inside...no more unnecessary excursions.,.the aurors are onto you...'"

"Well they are! The papers say you've been spotted in London!"

"Ah, it's bollocks they don't know anything." Sirius said with a careless wave of his hand. "Besides Kingsley will keep them off my tail."

"He can only do so much."

"For Merlin's sake Remus, give it a rest!" Sirius almost shouted, standing up with a loud scrape of his chair.

"No! Not until you take this seriously." I argued. "I don't want to loose you again."

Sirius' petulance suddenly faded away and he looked at me with pity. I didn't usually admit my feelings like that, so whenever I did it always had impact.

"And Harry feel's the same – he's not just trying to spoil your fun." I continued.

"I know! I'm not a child." Sirius retorted, then he groaned obviously aware that he was acting like one. "I just – I can't stand being here with just bloody Kreacher for company – it's driving me mad!"

I sympathised, but there wasn't much I could do. I settled for just trying to distract him by asking him about what Harry had said. Sirius told me about Harry's theory that his scar hurts more when Voldemort is feeling a strong emotion like anger, which made me think of something:

"What if if was happiness and not anger?" I said.

"Why would he – oh! If Avery _was_ sending a message!" Said Sirius reading my mind.

"Exactly: Avery sent a message while he was missing in the department of mysteries, Voldemort gets it and rejoices, and Harry's scar hurts as a result." I summarised.

The next morning, the day of the SWAMP ball, Sirius put the idea to Moody. He had stopped at Grimmauld place for a quick word with me about a warehouse in Leeds he had been monitoring: he was convinced Death Eaters were using it to breed Chimaeras; an unlikely possibility, but if there were Death Eaters there then they probably weren't just sitting around eating sandwiches and exchanging right wing views, so I agreed to accompany him on a surveillance mission. Arthur and Molly were there as well as apparently Molly so severely doubted the culinary skills of two bachelors and an insane house elf that she felt obliged to provide Sirius and I with the occasional meal. Tonks was also there – I don't really know why.

"You might be right Sirius." Moody told Sirius, "Tonks – this will mean you and the others will have to be more vigilant during guard duty." He added shouting across the room to Tonks who was sitting next to me eating a croissant while I told her about how university students like to celebrate ("They do drink a lot. I once had a student warn me, quite earnestly, whilst lying on the floor 'mind my bike there, it might bite you. If it bites you, kick it'.").

"I'm not sure I _can_ be any more vigilant Mad-Eye." Tonks replied. "Not without injuring myself."

"You can always be more vigilant, Tonks." I joked which earned me a playful shove from the young auror. In retaliation I stole a bit of her croissant.

"Oi!" She exclaimed trying to reach for it, but I shoved it in my mouth before she could, so Tonks tickled my ribs in the hope I would choke from laughing. When Molly delivered a plate of hot bacon rashers to the table Tonks let me go and I sheepishly swallowed the croissant. I didn't like the way Molly had arched her eyebrow at me.

"Oh dear." Arthur suddenly said, and everyone turned to look at him. He was standing by the enchanted window next to the fireplace reading the Daily Prophet that had just arrived. His face was uncharacteristically pale.

"What is it dear?" Molly asked. Arthur didn't say anything, he just laid the paper down on the kitchen table where everyone could see the headline on the second page: MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDE APPOINTED FIRST EVEN HIGH INQUISITOR.

I scanned the first few paragraphs and realised at once why Arthur had looked so pale. Percy had been liberally quoted expressing his approval of Umbridge and all the Ministry meddling she stood for. Of course Percy was entitled to think what he liked about the Ministry and it's politics, but I couldn't help but feel frustrated that such a bright boy could get it so wrong. Molly gave a shaky sigh and anxiously clutched her face as she read over my shoulder.

"Oh dear – they boy's really been brainwashed..." Sirius said a little tactlessly. Arthur chewed his lip and nervously cleaned his glasses.

"I'm sure he will see sense soon." Moody contributed as he leant on the kitchen table next to Sirius. Suddenly Tonks let out a weird squeak.

"What?" I asked quietly. Tonks opened her mouth but found she couldn't say anything as she looked nervously at me, then she pointed to the eighth paragraph. I was somewhat shocked to see my own name.

_'Among those _eccentric decisions [made by Dumbledore]_ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin...'_

I'm not sure why seeing myself outed in the paper made my heart beat so quickly. Perhaps it was just the unexpectedness of it, or maybe it was the fact that my label, 'werewolf,' came before my name: I was a werewolf first, a human being second.

"What is it?" Sirius asked struggling to read the paper upside down.

"I'm mentioned." I said blankly. "As one of Dumbledore's eccentric decisions."

"Oh. Bummer." Sirius said. "If I'm honest though, I've been waiting for them to bring you into it."

"What do you mean?"

"All the slander about Dumbledore...I figured it's only a matter of time before they use the fact he hired a werewolf as ammunition against him." Sirius said and I sighed.

"Oh well. It's not like it was a secret anyway. They have written about me before." I said. It was true, the prophet had outed me as a werewolf already, but this was a much bigger story: this was a double-spread article on the second page, the first article was just a little quarter page piece on page 12, more people would have read this one.

"And poor Hagrid as well." Tonks added. "Merlin, if only those idiots at the prophet knew how you and Hagrid have risked your lives for them..."

I purposefully closed the paper and folded it in half so that all we could see was a picture of one of the Holyhead Harpies having banana skins thrown at her for dropping the quaffle.

"Poor Harry gets this sort of thing every day." I said, my eyes drawn to Tonks who was still looking at me. She sighed, put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

"Well, I need to be going." Moody suddenly said. "Thanks for agreeing to help me Remus – we'll arrange all the finer details at the next meeting."

"Yes, good. Thanks Mad-Eye." I said somewhat absentmindedly.

"I better go too – don't want to be late." Arthur said still looking warily at the paper like it was an unopened howler.

"Ditto." Tonks said getting up from the table without removing her hand from my shoulder. In fact, she had left it gently resting there, her fingertips occasionally rubbing my collarbone, for a curiously long time. But almost as soon as that thought crossed my mind she let me go.

"I'll see you at the Ball right?" She asked me cheerfully.

"Yes...that thing." I replied.

"Oh come on, you can muster more enthusiasm than that." Tonks teased. I smiled at her and Tonks gave a gentle laugh. A few moments later and there were three quite pops as Tonks, Moody and Arthur dissaparated to work. Molly stayed around a bit longer to help clear up the breakfast things, and foist us with a home-made lasagne, to keep us sustained, until she could come back to cook for us. Sirius and I protested, insisting that we could manage for ourselves and that she shouldn't go to so much trouble for us, but we could never win against Molly Weasley – especially not when both of us secretly wanted the delicious lasagne.

Once Molly had gone Sirius sat down opposite me, flung away the daily prophet that I had been masochistically reaching for, and posed the question: "Now, have you changed your mind about the metamorphamagus?"

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Don't do that. I genuinely want to know." Said Sirius.

"What to know what? What are you trying to get at exactly?"

"Are you still not going to do anything? I'm confused see, because you're still flirting with her."

"I'm not flirting with her."

"Yes you are! It's revolting. Almost as revolting as the way she flirts with you."

"No-one is flirting with anyone."

"Merlin. Right, well, leaving your denial aside – I really think you should reconsider your plan of inaction."

"Sirius, I don't want to talk about this."

"She already knows what you are and isn't repulsed, that doesn't happen very often. How can you pass this opportunity up?"

"Because!" I insisted frustratedly. "It wouldn't be right." I added in a guilty hiss.

"Right...wrong...they are vague concepts, Moony." Philosophised Sirius in that irritating but charismatic offhand tone of his.

"Within your warped moral code maybe, within mine they are not. And this...this thing with Tonks..." I felt a bit giddy just saying that phrase, "it's...No. My answer is no."

"Right, well, tell me if you still feel that way after you've seen her all dressed up at the ball tonight." Sirius said pointing a challenging finger at me.

I don't know if my feelings actually changed, but they certainly were a heck of mess when she arrived at the ball with her friends. The ball was being held in the 'Supernatural History Museum' on the South Bank. The museum was a rather eccentric building. It looked exactly like a bland 1960s office block to any muggles passing it by with a small sign of the door that read 'LPW Actuarial Archives', a sign of sufficient dullness to discourage any sane muggle from trying to enter. To a witch or wizard though it looked quite different. It was a patchwork of different architectural ideas: several stories high with roman columns, flying buttresses made of steel, islamic-style horseshoe arches, and a top floor made entirely of glass so that you could look out across london as you admired magical artefacts from years gone by.

It was on the top floor that the ball was taking place: the usual artefacts had been removed and, in celebration of the ball's objective, replaced with an assortment of muggle objects SWAMP thought would be interesting to witches and wizards. Of course, the objects muggles find interesting and the objects witches and wizards find interesting were, more often than not, entirely different (Arthur Weasley is testament to this fact). Quite a few muggles had been invited to the ball, most of whom where the husbands and wives of the magical guests, and they were immensely amused by the 'star attraction' of the muggle exhibition: a vacuum cleaner. Other muggle artefacts on display included a computer that could connect to something called the internet, which none of the magical folk found the slightest bit interesting as it took at least fifteen minutes to establish a link with to the so-called internet, and then apparently did nothing. I watched one wizard jab his fingers at the computer screen, pear around the back of it and press every button on the strange machine before loudly exclaiming "what the heck is this for? and who on earth is Jeeves?". I was reliably informed, by a muggle businessman, that soon almost every muggle would own a computer able to connect to the internet, but I still have no idea what it actually does. There were some objects that did catch my interest though: a smallish device designed to clip on your belt that played music through some earmuffs, sadly it didn't work as the batteries had gone missing (apparently they had fallen out and the museum curator mistook them for petrified billiwigs and threw them away) but I was impressed all the same; a large sculpture of a robot (a mechanical person popular in muggle stories) made out of television sets – some of which actually worked and showed clips of current muggle TV shows, which all seemed to centre around a group of muggles with bouffant haircuts dancing in a fountain; a selection of cigarette lighters which went down very well ("Incredible! They have invented their own magic, they really have!" I heard someone cry); and my own personal favourite: a collection of biros of assorted colours ( I decided then and there that some clicky topped biros were going on my Christmas list).

When Tonks arrived I was being introduced to the Chairman of SWAMP by Arthur Weasley, and I was in mid handshake when my attention was lassoed by the bewitching greeny-blue dress she was wearing. It was was flowing and diaphanous and embroidered with gold and red flowers. But most of all it just looked so damn good on her slender figure. The urge to embrace her in my arms was almost overpowering. Also her hair was that lovely pink colour again, and it's natural length, but tied up in a braided knot at the nape of her neck. She looked nervous, almost as if she was uncomfortable looking so pretty. She wrapped her arms around her body, perhaps in an attempt to hide herself and sheltered in the gaggle of her friends. I recognised one of her friends as Hestia Jones, but I didn't know any of the rest.

"Mr Lupin?" I heard someone say. After an embarrassing length of time I realised it was the chairman of SWAMP whose hand I was still holding. I let him go and tried not to blush. The chairman laughed to diffuse the tension.

"Sorry I er..." I mumbled but the chairman saved me the bother of trying to come up with an excuse.

"So you were a teacher? How do you feel about the new high commissioner?" The Chairman said.

"Honestly?" I said.

"Of course." Replied the chairman.

"I think it's a rather shameless way for Fudge to control what goes on at Hogwarts."

"But surely it's good that the ministry is introducing some regulation..."

The chairman continued and although I did my best to contribute to the conversation my mind was fixated on Tonks. As Moody had advised she stayed away from me, but our eyes met across the room every so often, and after a glass of wine or two I was beginning to think that I'd have to say hello to her at least: being in the same room as her and not talking to her was unbearable. But then, something unexpected happened. I was on my third glass of wine inspecting a model railway when I heard a voice I recognised.

"Well good evening Mr Lupin." The voice said seductively. I turned around with intrigue. Sure enough standing before me, looking as fabulous as always in a red velvet dress, was Diana Shacklebolt.


	55. The Ball Part Two

Thanks so much for all the reviews! And welcome new readers! I have no problem with people reading but not reviewing every chapter because there are a lot. But if you particularly like something, or think I should have done something differently then I'd be happy to hear it. I'm sorry this update has taken so long! My life is quite busy at the moment and it's hard to find the time for the story.

Also to those of you worrying about the significant deaths that are to come: I totally share your anxiety, I don't want them to die either! But don't worry too much because I plan to do justice to them all - they are going to be quite epic. And lastly: No plans to give up on this story, although it's going to end up quite long I think – but I am retelling seven books...

**55 The Ball Part Two**

"Diana! Hello!" I exclaimed with surprise. "I didn't know you would be here."

"My brother invited me." Diana said smiling broadly. It was so strange to see her again. I hadn't spoken to her in more than nine months and it had been long enough since we were together that I had almost forgotten that I had shared a bed with her. When I remembered, it was oddly exciting.

"I saw your name in the paper." Diana said and I frowned.

"Ah yes, that was unfortunate." I said.

"I hope I don't get too many letters from angry irish mothers..."

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry." I said grimacing.

"Oh it's not your fault." Diana said. "It's mine for hiring you!" I forced a laugh.

"How are you otherwise, Remus?" She said her dark brown looking closely at me. I sighed and gave her an ironic smile. Diana laughed and sipped her wine while keeping those sparkling eyes of hers upon me.

"You look very smart." She said.

"Thank you. So do you." I returned skimming my eyes over the velvet dress. My eyes reached her hips and I suddenly noticed a diamond ring on the hand she had placed there.

"Gosh is that-" I began but was cut short by the arrival of a tall man with curly blond hair and blue eyes as devilish as Sirius'.

"Hello sweetie." Diana said kissing the man's cheek. "Remus, this is my fiance Patrick." Diana said looping her diamond decorated hand around her fiance's arm.

"Remus Lupin." I said after a few seconds of stunned silence. I shook Patrick's hand. "Nice to meet you. And congratulations."

"Thanks." Patrick said glancing happily at his future wife. It felt a bit weird knowing that this stranger and I had a lover in common, but truthfully I was happy for her. There was something about Patrick's demeanour that suggested to me that he was as wicked as Diana, so I didn't doubt that they would be happy together.

"I understand you used to teach at Diana's school." Patrick said conversationally.

"He's a magical theorist as well, Patrick." Said Diana.

"Oh really?" Patrick said with excitement, meaning he probably was too.

"Oh, er, yes I suppose." I said, "though I haven't had an article published for well over two years."

"Oh two years is not that long." Patrick said with a causal wave of his hand. "What field of magic do you specialise in?"

"Charms and defensive magic." I replied with a polite smile.

"I see." Patrick said considering me for a moment. "Oh wait! You didn't write that 1992 paper on the relationship between emotional motivation and spell strength did you? In Challenging Charming?"

"Yes I did." I said, shocked but delighted that he remembered my paper.

"Ah, I knew I recognised your name. I'm a transfiguration researcher myself." Revealed Patrick. "It was a very interesting paper. I thought the bit where you said human beings' basic desire to protect their own species caps the power of curses was a rather charitable view of human nature though."

"Mm, well I did say that that was only true _in general_. I was trying to say that powerful curses are rare because most people have a natural reluctance that they have to offset – I'm not denying that there aren't _some_ people who don't have that natural reluctance, or that the reluctance affects us all the time. Perhaps if we were put in the right situation, a very powerful curse would be easy for us."

"I see. The subtleties of human emotions are important then?"

"Oh of course." I said glancing at Diana who winked at me.

"Not much room for emotions in transfiguration – it's a much more, er, mathematical discipline than charms."

As we talked the band, a jazz orchestra from Sussex, were introduced and started to play. Their set included a selection of songs written by muggles and while Patrick and I discussed magic Diana cooed with delight as they started to play an instrumental version of Unchained Melody.

"Oh Patrick, can we dance? I love this song." Diana said tugging Patrick's arm.

Patrick laughed and jovially said "How could I say no to this woman?" I smiled, and resisted the urge to say "I know _exactly_ how hard she is to say no to". Diana and Patrick skipped to the dance floor next to the giant TV robot, leaving me standing by the model railway by myself. I glanced at the display again. It was enormously impressive that the little red engine could follow a track around and around without tiring without a hint of magic. There was a tiny model station as well, complete with miniature muggles carrying travelling bags and wearing bowler hats.

As intricate as the model was however, it had been at least fifteen minutes since I had scanned the room for her, so I lifted my eyes to find her again. She was looking at me from across the room, a table or two of muggle artefacts and a few dancing couples between us.

She smirked at me and tucked a strand of her bright hair behind her ear. I put my hands in my pockets and smirked back. Tonks made a gesture towards me, but with the width of the room between us I couldn't work out what she was saying. I shrugged and Tonks held up her index finger indicating for me to wait. I watched her pull her wand out her sleeve, which made me chuckle, and conjure a very small piece of parchment. Then using her wand as a pen, and biting her lip as she concentrated, she wrote a message.

She charmed the letter into a butterfly, held the butterfly on the tips of her fingers and gently blowed it into the air. My heart swelled a little as I watched her creation flutter towards me. The other guests danced in front of me, obscuring Tonks from my view, but the butterfly flew over their heads and remained in my line of sight. I held out a hand and it landed gently in my palm, opened and closed its wings, which were beautifully decorated with pink flowers, and then transformed back into the message Tonks had written.

"You scrub up well." It said. I looked up to see the crowd part revealing a giggling Tonks. I smiled at her and took my wand out of the specially designed inside pocket of my frock coat.

Using my wand as a pen, I wrote "thank you" on the back of her conjured parchment, "you, of course, look so beautiful that this distance between us is torture for me."

I looked at what I had written and wondered if I could really say that to her. The romantic in me wanted to, but I felt so guilty. She was so young and vibrant and I was the most inappropriate man for her. I sighed and erased the message. Instead I wrote: "Thank you. You as always look beautiful".

Then I magically sent the butterfly back towards her. I watched Tonks read the message and grin. She swirled the skirt of her dress to show off her outfit, accidentally bumping into and elderly wizard standing behind her. I sniggered as I watched her apologise profusely to the gentleman. She turned back to me just as Unchained Melody neared its end. While the last few bars played out I just looked at her. She looked back, and I wished I could know what she was thinking.

Diana and Patrick returned from the dance floor, both grinning like teenagers in love. Patrick grabbed a glass of wine from on of the magically floating trays and took a large gulp.

"Such a great song." Diana said

"Oh, honey, look it's Fentin Benedict." Patrick said pointing to a short bearded wizard sipping punch.

"Goblin's piss, he's such a bore." Disparaged Diana placing a hand on her hip. I couldn't help but smirk at the phrase she had used: it was peculiar to Northern Irish magical folk. Diana wasn't Irish so I guessed she had picked it up from her Irish friends – or perhaps her students, they were a rowdy bunch after all.

"What? He practically invented enchanted windows." Patrick returned, and Diana rolled her eyes.

"Well, _I'm_ going to say hello." Patrick declared with a playful defiance before jaunting off to speak to the wizard. Diana smiled lovingly after him then turned to me.

"He's very independent." She informed me. "Half of the time when we go to parties together we don't spend any time together – we both go off and talk to other people."

I nodded politely.

"But I think that's partly why it works – because when it's time to go home, we're both really happy to see each other again."

"He seems very nice." I said, and Diana looked at me sadly for a few minutes.

"Yes, so were you." She said. "If we had met at a different time..."

"Or in a different world." I added, _one where I wasn't a werewolf._ Diana suddenly frowned at me.

"Hang on are you talking about -?" She said, sightly indignantly. "I never held it against you! You were the one who ended it!" I looked closely at Diana's large brown eyes. They seemed sincere and regretful. Had I misread that whole affair? Had she been more fond of me than I realised?

"Anyway, that's in the past now." Diana said casually.

"Diana I..." I murmured wondering if perhaps I had something to apologise for.

"It's alright, Remus. Like I said, it wasn't the right time for either of us." She said wisely. "Now, who is the girl with the pink hair?" She added changing the subject.

"Which girl?" I asked feigning indifference.

"Don't be coy Remus, there is only one girl in the room with pink hair." Retorted Diana. I glanced at the girl in question with a twist of guilt.

"Er, I don't know." I said.

"Oh you liar!" Accused Diana. "I saw you exchanging smiles with her when Patrick and I were dancing."

I sighed thinking of how Moody would disapprove of my indiscretion. "Alright, she's Nymphadora Tonks. I know her...in a professional capacity."

"Is that a euphemism?" Diana asked with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile.

"It is," I answered, there was no point denying it, "but not the kind you're thinking of."

"Are you sure?" Diana asked her eyes staring into mine with alarming intensity.

"Yes." I said my jaw twitching a little.

"You sound disappointed about it." Diana said apparently puzzled, she glanced back at Tonks to examine her, then she looked back at me. "Do you have a crush?" She asked in a whisper. I squirmed in Diana's gaze for a few minutes.

"Am I that transparent?" I whispered eventually.

"I'm just very astute."

"It's bordering on legilimency."

"I am actually quite a good legilimens." Confessed Diana. I was momentarily stunned – I had only been joking. "But I've never..." Diana added upon seeing my surprise.

"Not on purpose anyway." She added before biting her lip.

"You've read my mind?" I asked my voice strangely high-pitched so staggered was I by the revelation that someone might have been privy to my private thoughts. I dreaded to think what slices of my mind Diana could have gleaned.

"Once, but it was by mistake." She said, and I continued to stare at her. "You hardly say anything, I just wanted to know what you were thinking and, er, I accidentally read your mind..."

"When was this?"

"You were daydreaming – or late-evening-dreaming. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake."

I assumed this was during one of those quiet moments lying in her bed with her arms around me.

"What – what was I daydreaming about?" I asked cautiously.

"Painting." Diana said laughing kindly.

"Painting?" I felt relieved.

"I was surprised too. You were thinking about painting the view from the top of your garden. Of the valley."

"Oh." I had no recollection of the thought. It must have been an unimportant reverie for me, quickly forgotten; but Diana, even though it wasn't her thought, remembered it well. I suppose that brief snapshot of my mind was probably the closest she got to knowing me.

"Did you ever paint it?" Diana asked.

"No. I'm not really very good at painting."

Diana nodded, but in a knowing kind of way, which made me wonder if that had really been all she had seen of my mind. She turned back to look at Tonks.

"She's very young." She remarked with a concerned tone.

"I know." I said looking at the floor.

"She's looking at you." Diana informed me and I lifted my head to see if it were true but Diana stopped me. "No don't look round! She'll know we're talking about her."

"What should I do then?" I asked looking at Diana.

"Dance with me." She said, just smiling in response to my confusion.

"Oh, I don't really -" I protested, but Diana had already grabbed my hand and was dragging me towards the centre of the dance floor. I moaned and complained and glanced around for any way of escaping but to no avail.

"Come on Remus, let's show these kids how it's done." She said forcefully placing one of my hands on her back and grabbing the other. I sighed, but fortunately I knew how to jive. The song was Long Tall Sally by the Kinks, a great song for sure, and Diana was very fun to dance with. She was undeniably sexy and trusted me enough to let me lead. After a few triple steps I was beginning to really enjoy myself – perhaps I had had more wine that I realised. I let Diana go and, taking my wand from my pocket, I vanished my frock coat then undid my bow tie.

"Ah-ha! Getting serious are we?" Teased Diana.

"Oh hush." I said taking Diana's hand and spinning her before pulling her towards me. As the song began to draw to a close Diana seemed to move closer and closer to me.

"What are you doing?" I whispered when she was just inches away and one of her hands had slipped to my hip. I hoped to Merlin that her fiance couldn't see this.

"Just helping things along." She replied cryptically reaching with her free hand to steel my bow tie just as the song came to an end.

"Hey!" I protested playfully as Diana wrapped my tie around her neck.

"No you can't have it back!" She teased.

When the song ended Diana and I caught our breath at the bar and quenched our thirst with free champagne. Patrick soon joined us with the declaration: "Turns out you were right Diana, Mr Benedict _is_ incredibly boring!"

"I told you. I met him at the Cauldron Stomping party in London last year – he spent twenty minutes telling me about different kinds of shrimp." Moaned Diana. "Remus look – she's looking at you again." She added in a whisper so that Patrick wouldn't notice. I wondered why I was now allowed to look when I wasn't allowed earlier, but when I saw Tonks' face it no longer mattered to me. She looked thoroughly upset. When she saw me she smiled, but it looked forced, then she turned to talk to one of her friends. Just moments later I saw her heading towards the exit.

"Go after her." Diana directed while Patrick made a joke about Mr Benedict.

"I shouldn't. We agreed not to interact at the ball..." I whispered back.

And Diana made the very fair point: "who's going to notice?" So I followed her advice and sought Tonks out.

I found her standing alone in a quiet corridor of the museum. She was holding a half empty glass of champagne and staring at a cabinet full of phoenix and augury feathers. The corridor was largely in shadow, but light from the half moon through the window illuminated her in a ghostly silver light. She looked even more beautiful close to; her blue-green dress tracing the contours of her body, loose strands of her pretty pink hair caressing her cheeks.

There were a few other guests wondering past on their way to or from somewhere so I waited for them to disperse before I approached her. I stood next to her and looked at the phoenix feathers until she turned towards me, then I smiled warmly at her. She gave a small smile back.

"You're not supposed to be talking to me." She said quietly.

"I know." I replied, closely examining one red and gold tail feather. "But I couldn't resist." I glanced at her to see her reaction and was pleased to see a slight blush on her face. She sipped her champagne and continued to gaze at the feathers, so I did the same. After a few moments though I started to feel uncomfortable.

"You know Tonks, I think this is the first awkward silence to occur between us." I said shyly. Tonks gave me a sideways glance.

"I don't feel awkward." She said in a tone so commanding and austere it was a little frightening. I had a feeling Tonks wasn't telling the truth – she had said it just for effect.

"Right." I said meekly.

"What happened to your bow tie?" She asked.

I put my hand to my naked neck. "Oh, er, it was stolen." I laughed, but Tonks didn't seem to find it that funny.

"Are you alright Tonks?" I asked quietly.

"Of course I am." She replied, indicating that she was definitely not alright.

"Right." I said again with just as much meekness. Another guest walked past us and I stepped away from Tonks and pretended to read a plaque on the wall until the guest had left. When the guest had gone Tonks surprised me with an abrupt question.

"Who was that woman you were dancing with?" I looked at Tonks, who was blushing again, and she turned away from me to look back at the feathers.

"Kingsley's sister, Diana." I replied calmly.

"How do you know her?" Tonks asked gripping her champagne glass rather tightly.

"She is headmistress of the school in Ireland that I worked for."

"Oh right. Yes I remember." Tonks said, before chewing her lip for a few seconds. I put my hands in my pockets while I waited for her to say something.

"Have you slept with her?"

I choked on air and briskly tried to pull my hands out of my pockets but, still suffering from shock, I didn't quite manage it and ended up with one hand awkwardly stuck near my groin – which was especially embarrassing considering the subject matter.

"Sorry?" I said once I had freed my hand.

"Have you slept with her?" Tonks repeated. Were all women legilimens?

"Whatever gives you that idea?" I asked quietly checking the coast for any more guests.

"The way you were dancing. It looked like – well you didn't look like a couple who were just friends." Tonks said looking at me sternly.

"You were watching that closely?" I asked defensively. Tonks looked at me coldly and she suddenly seemed so much older. Even her hair had changed colour: it was now a cool pale blue.

"I have...been romantically involved with her, Tonks." I found myself saying. Tonks flinched and I wondered why. Was it just because the thought of me, an ageing werewolf, being romantically involved with someone was disgusting? "But it was very fleeting, and she's with someone else now. Engaged even." I added.

Tonks downed the rest of her champagne then let the glass go – rather than fall to the floor however, with a lovely piece of magic, Tonks silently and wandlessly vanished the glass. Then she put her hand over her face and groaned. Her hair turned from blue to purple. I stared at her completely baffled.

"Urgh, I'm sorry Remus." She said looking at the floor. "I'm being ridiculous. I'm sorry for the inquisition. You have the right to dance with whomever you like. Even ex-girlfriends."

Tonks smiled in a melancholy sort of way, and then in a quiet whisper, she added: "I just really wish you could dance with me."

I ran a hand through my hair and stood there awkwardly while I tried in vain to understand what was going on. Surely Tonks wasn't jealous of Diana? It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.

"Tonks, why do you want to dance with me?" I asked seriously. "There are plenty of people here your age you could dance with instead."

Tonks blinked several times and avoided my eyes, almost as if I were telling her off.

"Oh," She moaned, "I'm sorry, I don't know. Ah, I just shouldn't have said anything..."

She was so shy and embarrassed, it wasn't like her at all. But as uncharacteristic as it was, I was still so enchanted by her. The mellow guitar of the band playing the main hall drifted into the corridor, and I became certain some sort of spell was at work.

"I'm a rubbish dancer anyway." Tonks added with a laugh.

"I'm sure you're not." I said.

"No. I am. I have no co-ordination." She admitted. "I don't even know how to dance with someone else, really." Tonks rubbed her arms gauchely, and I felt myself being inexorably pulled forward by fate. I glanced around to check that we were alone and walked towards her.

"It's not really that hard." I said quietly and, against my better judgement, I took her right hand in my left and placed my right hand on her back. Tonks bit her lip to contain a large smile and put her free hand on my shoulder. I stepped a little closer so that our knees touched and Tonks smiled a little bit more making me feel quite giddy.

"Basically, I suggest where we should go, and you choose whether or not to follow me." I explained in a softer version of my teacher voice. "See, if I push my hand that way..." I said gently moving my hand a centimetre leftwards across her back, which made her breathe in deeply, "it means I want to go left."

Then I stepped leftwards, and Tonks, squeaking slightly with surprise and almost treading on my right foot, followed me. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"You said I could choose to follow you – I didn't have much choice there." She objected and I grinned.

"Okay, so if you want to dance with me you have to follow me, if you don't you don't. You have that sort of choice." I clarified and Tonks rolled her eyes, and waited for my next instruction.

"If I lift my left foot forward, it means I want to step forward with it, which means you have to step back with your right." I explained, and I stepped forward. Tonks practically jumped out of my way. Jumping backwards was not a sensible move for Tonks and she proceeded to stumble on thin air. She hooked her arm around my neck too keep are self upright and I was pulled with her. I steadied my grip on her back so that we didn't fall over, but I couldn't avoid my forehead colliding with hers. I pulled my head away from hers with mild wince and Tonks blushed profusely.

"Oh crap I'm sorry!" She gushed, "see what I mean?"

"That's quite alright. It was my fault." I said, feeling a little breathless: as a result of our accident the length of her body was now pressed firmly against mine. Tonks had also noticed but she made no attempt to step away from me.

"Perhaps it would be better if you don't move your feet at all." I suggested in almost a whisper. Tonks eyes changed from their glorious blue to a deep gold as she looked at me.

"We could just sway instead." She suggested gently. So we did, in time with the music with the entire length of our bodies still touching. Tonks didn't find it so hard to follow me when we were this close. I slowly turned and she followed me with a soft sigh. The hand she had resting on my shoulder slowly slid to the nape of my neck and she timidly twirled her fingers in my hair. In response I moved my hand a little lower down her back.

I realised, with a painful thump of my heart that this was very inappropriate, but with the music seeming to get louder and with her head resting against my shoulder, I couldn't stop myself. I let go of her right hand so I could caress her back, and she moved her other hand to my neck. This was fine, I told myself, just as long as I didn't kiss her. If that happened, I'm sure I would be lost. I breathed in the tea tree smell of her soft hair and began to hum along with the music, whilst I let us turn in a gentle caressing circle. I closed my eyes to savour this illicit moment. Tonks sighed, then lifted her head from my shoulder slightly and let her mouth touch my neck. The music was suddenly so loud. It was no good, I couldn't resist any longer, I wanted to feel my lips against hers too much. I turned my face towards her. I leant towards her and she closed her eyes.

Then I heard hurried footsteps behind me. The spell was broken. I abruptly let Tonks go. The two of us turned to the guest who had interrupted us, probably both looking flushed and embarrassed. I didn't recognise the boy who had entered the corridor but apparently he was a friend of Tonks.

"Ah there you are, Tonks." He said, giving me a quick puzzled look.

"Er, yeah hi John – what do you want?" Tonks said briskly. I turned to look at her. I don't think she had meant to sound that rude, it was unlike her – but I was flattered by her impatience.

"Er," John began, bemused by Tonks' behaviour. "Someone's just shot a smoke bomb through the window. Thought you'd be interested..."

"Oh!" Said Tonks. "Er, yeah I'll be in in a minute." She added. John nodded then darted back into the main hall. Tonks looked at me uncertainly. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't deny what had almost happened. I couldn't hide what it meant. But now didn't seem the time to discuss it.

"We better go." I said. Tonks nodded and we joined everyone else in the hall.

The hall was filled with the sound of people talking noisily in anxious voices. Most people were gathered by the window that looked over an offshoot of Diagon Alley. Tonks and I joined them.

"When happened?" I asked Bill Weasley who was standing with Fleur Delacour.

"Someone threw a smoke bomb through the window." Bill replied. I could smell the sharp acidy smell of the harmful smoke these kinds of bombs usually released, but couldn't see any smoke in the air, or any broken glass. I supposed that someone had already cleaned the mess and repaired the window the bomb had come through. "Fortunately it didn't do too much damage. Kingsley was able to contain it. The wizard who threw it got away though. Should have known something like this would happen. SWAMP is not a popular cause amongst wizards. Plus I got a message from Mad-Eye about an hour ago telling my that there were a few protesters marching through Diagon Alley."

"Oh really?" I said.

"Some of ze muggle families 'ave gone 'ome." Fleur added. I examined the crowd of ball attendees and noticed that many of them were missing. "It must be frightening for zem. Zey are already in a strange environment and zen zis."

"Yes." I said. "I can understand." Smoke bombs were not extremely dangerous: the smoke they emitted caused a lot of coughing and made your eyes water, but that was about it. However, I could see how a package breaking through a window and then puffing out clouds of thick purple smoke would be frightening to a muggle.

"Dad's messaged the hit wizards and has gone down to make sure everything's safe." Bill said. I looked around the hall again and saw Kingsley talking with the ball organisers. I also noticed Arnold Warrington, the chief of the Transfiguration Today board, who had helped fund the ball, looking particularly flustered.

"This is atrocious!" He declared loudly. "I shall have to make a statement tomorrow! I knew this ball would reflect badly on Transfiguration Today."

"The ball was still a good idea." Hestia Jones said "We have to stand up to these people.". I liked Hestia a lot. She was an excellent mediwitch and a very passionate brave woman, it was no surprise that she was friends with Tonks.

"But I don't want to give the wrong impression." Warrington said boldly. "I'm not against learning about muggles. But we can't expect magical and non-magical people to mix. We are just too different." I saw Hestia give him a questioning look. "I certainly don't think we should treat them poorly – but we can't expect the wizarding public to integrate with these people permanently."

Hestia scowled at Warrington's tactless used of the phrase 'these people', while a few members of the crowd nodded with agreement.

"Why not?" Hestia asked.

"Because! They are not like us! They are dangerous. They are afraid of magic. They would prevent wizards from flourishing I'm sure of it." Warrington said heatedly. I didn't know very much about Arnold Warrington. I had met his son, Jeremy Warrington, a slytherin in Harry's year. He was not a very pleasant child. Hardly a class went by when he wasn't surly and rude to me. I had put it down to the negative influence of Draco Malfoy, or an attempt to compensate for his slightly below average charms ability, but perhaps there was an element of 'like-father-like-son' at play. Arnold Warrington wasn't a scholar, although he was involved in the publication of a scholarly journal. I think he was a business analyst or something. I knew he was rich, because he had donated large sums of money to the ministry of magic a few years ago. Tonight he was dressed in rather garish purple dress robes with acid green pinstripes, and with his face getting progressively more pink he made for an interesting, if unattractive sight.

"I don't think that's true. In fact that's just the sort of thinking that inspires demonstrations like that smoke bomb." Hestia said. "I'm not saying we should expose ourselves entirely to muggles obviously, but I definitely think we should make more effort to learn about their culture and join in in community events with them."

"We share a country with muggles after all." Bill contributed and there was a low hum of agreement.

"An unfortunate circumstance which needn't determine our behaviour to them." Warrington objected. There was a growl of noise, and the gathering of people were at once divided into two groups, those that agreed with Warrington and those who did not.

"We are a different species after all!" Warrington argued over the crowd.

"What are you talking about? Of course we are not!" Hestia insisted, her round cheeks a little pink.

"We're all human!" Fleur declared her silvery blonde hair shimmering as she shook her head.

"Yes – but we _are_ different!" Warrington insisted.

"Yes, we are. But different does not mean better." Bill said diplomatically.

"Our power has been repressed for decades by these unmagical people – I don't think we should start treating them like friendly next door neighbours!" Warrington said angrily. "We need to remember how hostile they have been towards us! We need to assert ourselves. Whether you like it or not – we are superior."

Again there was a murmur in the crowd.

"Come on – witches and wizards haven't been persecuted for ages!" Hestia argued. "For the past twenty years we've been persecuting them!"

"I admit certain wizards have made mistakes..."

"Made _mistakes_?" Tonks exclaimed in furious disbelief. "You think he did those things by accident!"

"Er, well, no. Of course not." Warrington blundered. "What I mean is: no-one can deny wizards are entitled to a lot more freedom and power than we currently have and who can we blame for this? Muggles! And soon with their techlonolgy and electricky they'll run us out of the country!"

"What? That's ridiculous!" Hestia exclaimed.

"They were hell bent on doing it once! How can you be sure they wouldn't try again!" Warrington argued pointing a chubby finger at Hestia.

"I think that is an unlikely scenario." I said quietly. I don't know what it is exactly, perhaps it is because my voice is quite deep, but I have never needed to raise my voice to quiet a group of people. Everyone looked at me, including Warrington. "Relations between muggles and wizards needn't be at all hostile. It's all about preventing misinformation. I think an accurate portrayal of muggles will reveal that differences between us are only superficial. I don't doubt that a relationship between muggles and wizards will take work – just like any relationship. But think how much better our society could be if we could make it work."

Hestia, Tonks, Bill and Fleur smiled and nodded, with expressions of triumph.

"What would you know of civilised society?" Warrington said sourly, clearly outraged at having been beaten by reason.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean." I returned calmly while the tension built in the air.

"Being what you are." Warrington said, his round face rumpled into a glare. "Your kind live in forests don't they? In packs."

My body bristled with indignation.

"My kind..." I whispered in astonishment.

"What's this?" A middle-aged witch in an ugly blue dress asked peering at me through her horn-rimmed spectacles.

"He's a werewolf." Warrington revealed pointing rudely at me. There was an intake of breath from the crowd.

"Good gracious."

"A werewolf? Is that true?"

"Should he be here? Are they allowed near normal people?"

"Of course he is!" Tonks said angrily.

"How could you know what is best for witches and wizards when you are not even human?" Said Warrington with gratification. The crowd hissed and whispered amongst themselves and looked fearfully at me, while I became increasingly uncomfortable.

"What the hell? How dare you be so rude!" Tonks exclaimed loudly to Warrington, her hair becoming more red than pink. I suddenly felt fearful myself: Tonks, an order member and an auror wasn't supposed to draw attention to herself, and there she was practically shouting at the chairman of Transfiguration Today board, all because of me.

"It's alright." I said to her "Mr Warrington is entitled to his opinion-"

"No!" She cried passionately. "He's just plain wrong!"

"Young lady, I think I know more about this kind of thing than you do. In the course of my career I've had experience with these creatures." Warrington said and I felt like I had been whacked in the gut. "I assisted in a werewolf tracking programme in the late eighties -

"Mr Warrington, don't call me that." I ordered calmly. "You are allowed to doubt my expertise on what is best for wizarding society, but do not call me a 'creature'."

"But that's what you are." Said Warrington in a low sinister voice. "And a dangerous one at that. In the paper only last week I read a report about a werewolf mutilating a young wizard. How many have you killed?"

The crowd chattered loudly and anxiously.

"I – I have not killed anyone!" I insisted, but even as I spoke violent images of dying vampires filled my mind.

"I thought you were a teacher at Hogwarts?" One woman asked me.

"A teacher? You were allowed near children?"

"I'm only dangerous on the full moon-" I tried to explain.

"What was Dumbledore thinking?" Someone said.

"Maybe Fudge is right: he's loosing his marbles." Said someone else.

"No – that's not true, Dumbledore is as fit as ever." Bill defended.

"And yet he hired a werewolf?"

"Werewolves are completely safe in human form." Said Tonks. "And Professor Lupin is an excellent teacher."

"Yes, when I was at 'Ogwarts, ze students all spoke very 'ighly of 'im." Fleur contributed kindly.

"But what about when it was a full moon? He could have bitten anyone of them!" The woman in the blue dress exclaimed.

"No – I, I was taking medication..." I mumbled while my insides writhed.

"Didn't you get the sack because you ran wild one full moon?" Asked Warrington with a cruel sneer.

"I...er, no, I resigned..." I said shakily. The crowd's hatred for me seemed to double. I could feel it beating down upon me.

"_I_ heard that you almost killed three students! Including Harry Potter!" A grey-haired man with a squeaky voice chimed in, triggering a fresh wave of hatred for me. The crowd looked at me with horror, as if my being alive was an abomination. I suddenly felt Tonks' fingers touch my hand. I knew she just wanted to comfort me, but I pulled my hand away from hers. She couldn't be seen to show affection for the monster.

"Dumbledore should have known better than to hire a _beast_ to teach his classes." Warrington spat with even more vigour. I felt a shock of rage so potent that I couldn't contain it: it radiated from my body as a shockwave of magic that almost knocked Warrington off his feet. He stumbled backwards. The woman in the blue dress and another man caught him and pushed him back onto his feet.

"How dare you!" Warrington shouted at me. I could have apologised, or explained that it was an accident, but I didn't. I remained silent while his fury reigned down upon me. "How dare you! You _animal_!"

Warrington pulled out his wand and held it close to my face. I didn't flinch. Instead I stared angrily at Warrington daring him to try it.

"Put your wand down." Tonks ordered fiercely, her own wand pointed at Warrington. Warrington glared at Tonks for a few moments but then did as he was instructed.

"I think you should leave." Tonks said. There was an eruption of protest.

"He was the one who hexed me!" Warrington shouted.

"If anyone should leave he should!" The woman in the blue dress said pointing at me. Then Kingsley appeared to find out what the commotion was about.

"What's going on?" He asked in his booming voice.

"That werewolf hexed Mr Warrington!"

"It was obviously an accident! Did you see him draw his wand?" Bill said in my defence.

"He provoked him!" Fleur added.

"A creature like that should never have been here in the first place!" Someone else cried.

"I'll go. I'll leave..." I said quietly.

"Wait-" Tonks begged catching my arm. I tugged my arm out of her grip.

"I can't stay here..." I whispered to her and I turned to walk away.

"Go on! Get out of here!" "Monster!" I heard them shout at me as I hurriedly left the museum. I left through the back exit and found myself in the quiet offshoot of Diagon Alley. It had started to rain and a fog had formed, giving the dark street a haunted look. I sighed deeply and stood still for a moment in the cold autumn air. The hateful looks and jeers of the people upstairs were still fresh and sore in my mind. By now I should really be used to people behaving like that towards me, but even though it had happened many times in the past, it still affected me deeply. I still felt panicked and hurt, and lost as to how I should react, how I should defend myself. I felt even worse this time because darling Tonks had jumped to my defence. How must she have looked to those people? Standing up for a werewolf? I ran my hands through my hair and took a shaky breath. My credibility was ruined when I was bitten, but there was no reason for hers to suffer. This thing with her – it had to stop. I couldn't drag her into this.


	56. Some Lively Intercourse

**Sorry this chapter has taken so long. I've been very busy with other things. **

**I have a few concerns, readers, and would like your opinion, if you don't mind: **

**Do you think this story is progressing too slowly/is too long? I know it's just gone on and on but I do really like it, and there is a lot of stuff I have to lay down for later plot twists (things will start to come together soon). **

**Second, I am thinking about taking some things from this story and working them into my own original story. It would still be about a werewolf and he'd retain many of the characteristics I have given Lupin, but there would be no magic, I'd put him in our world. Also the plot would be different, obviously. What do you think? Bad idea? I just feel I've done a lot of creating here and I want to use it. **

**56 Some Lively Intercourse **

For the next few weeks I tried to avoid Tonks, and was moderately successful. As I had promised, I went to Leeds with Moody on a reconnaissance mission that lasted a lot longer than I expected. Moody's theory was the Death Eaters were breeding dark creatures in an old disused factory. They weren't of course, but it transpired that they were using it to store gallons of a very powerful incendiary potion. Just a pint of the stuff could bring down an entire building, which is exactly what they were planning to do. The plans that we found indicated that they wanted to destroy platform 9 and a half at Kings Cross, the platform from which international magical trains left. It took three weeks, and four rather risky duels, for Moody and I to gather enough evidence, but eventually we managed to confiscate the potion and get the death eaters responsible arrested.

When I returned to London, not only did I learn that Harry had started giving defence against the dark arts lessons to his classmates to compensate for the absolutely appalling lessons they were receiving from the toad-faced fascist, news which actually made me do a little dance of triumph ("James would _love_ this! Rebellion, danger and all for a good cause. He'd be so proud!" I found myself saying repeatedly); I also found that avoiding Tonks was made slightly easier by the fact that she was avoiding me. She had volunteered herself for extra guard duty shifts so that she was never available to join Sirius and I in one of our late-night boozing sessions, something she was normally very pleased to take part in. Moody thought she felt guilty for drawing so much attention to herself at the ball and was trying to make it up to the Order. However, Fleur had a different theory.

However Fleur had a different theory. Bill had inducted Fleur into the Order and she was becoming a fairly regular face at Grimmauld Place and her face being as lovely as it was, no-one complained. Except for Molly. I'm not sure why Molly seemed to take such a disliking to Fleur, perhaps it was because she was dating her son, or maybe it was because she said Molly's cheesecake was mealy. Whatever the reason, Molly was not a fan of the young french woman. Anyway, one evening while the Order were sitting in number twelve's kitchen enjoying a roast pork dinner, an evening where Tonks was notably absent, Fleur gave me her diagnosis of Tonks' elusive behaviour.

"You left for nearly a month wizout saying a word," Fleur said gesticulating with her fork, "you never wrote to 'er while you were away."

"He never wrote to me either, I'm not in a huff about it," Sirius contributed before stuffing a large forkful of potato in his mouth.

"Yes, but you do not think of the professor the way Tonks does," Fleur said with a mischievous smirk.

"Mm." Sirius said grinning with his mouth full. I glanced around the dinner table. Fortunately Bill was locked into a loud conversation with Mundungus about how outrageous the tax on Dragon's blood was these days, so the only people who could hear what Sirius, Fleur and I were talking about were Sirius, Fleur and I.

"H-how does she think of me?" I asked Fleur timidly, who giggled at me, making Sirius snigger and me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

"She told me what 'appened at the ball," said Fleur.

"You mean what that niffler-pleasurer Warrington said?" asked Sirius.

"No, no no no," replied Fleur. "What 'appened before zat. Between ze professor and our Tonks."

"What? What happened?" Sirius asked, his ears pricking in a dog-like fashion. "Moony you never told me about this."

"There's nothing to tell. Nothing happened," I insisted in a hushed voice, very aware that the other Order members were only a few feet away.

"Zat's not 'ow Tonks sees it. And now that you are not speaking to 'er, she thinks she made a fool of 'erself," said Fleur. With the revelation that I may have caused Tonks unhappiness, I forgot about trying to hide our conversation from the rest of the table and stared inquisitively at Fleur.

"She didn't make a fool of herself – how could she? I was the one who -" I found I couldn't finish that sentence out loud.

"The one who what? What did you do?" Sirius demanded.

"Shush Sirius," I begged.

"'e almost kissed 'er!" Fleur hissed excitedly to Sirius who let out a bark of laughter. I blushed and in an attempt to keep them quiet I clicked my fingers and they both found their mouths suddenly full of potato.

"Murm!" "Ffurf!" The pair of them garbled.

"This is to stay between the three of us!" I ordered in a whisper.

"Foom!" "Murffr!" They retorted.

"Oh! Taken too big a bite Fleur?" Bill said, chuckling at his new girlfriend, "it's easy to do. Mum's mash is delicious."

I managed to convince myself that as regrettable as it was that Tonks should feel like she embarrassed herself, it really was for the best that we see less of each other. But all my hard work trying to forget my hopeless infatuation was undone by Sirius' irrepressible meddling.

It was the middle of November, the full moon was approaching, and for the first time in over a month, Tonks and I were alone in the kitchen together. She was wearing a very colourful knitted jumper over some jeans torn at the knee, and her hair was short and that delightful pink she said felt like bubbles. I had only just woken up and was reading the paper while Tonks sat at the opposite end of the table doodling on a piece of parchment. We had been seated together for nearly an hour but the most we had said to one another was "would you like some more tea?" "yes please." It wasn't an angry silence, neither of us were sulking. I think it would be more accurate to say that as neither of us had anything to say that didn't involve some sort of confession, so through a silent consensus we had decided it was better just to say nothing at all. Nevertheless, with her in the room I did find it difficult to concentrate on the article I was reading. In the forty-five minutes that passed I think I only read two sentences. I spent more time looking longingly at her face than the newspaper. I had no idea what she was drawing but I loved the way she bit her lip as she concentrated. Whenever I noticed she was about to look up I quickly looked back at my paper.

I was risking another glance at her when I noticed something very odd about her face. Her nose had changed. This wasn't unusual in itself, as Tonks often changed her nose. But the nose she was currently wearing was my own. My long crooked nose looked so bizarre on her pretty face I couldn't help but snigger.

"Tonks," I said. She looked up at me questioningly so that I got the full view of her strangely warped features. It was made all the funnier by the fact that Tonks hadn't seemed to have noticed at all. "Why are you wearing my nose?" I asked. At once, Tonks covered her nose with her hand and stared wide-eyed at me.

"Sorry!" She squeaked, "I was just looking at it and I guess I must have accidentally copied it."

I was about to ask why she was looking at my nose when the last of the Blacks stormed into the kitchen. He marched past us without saying a word and disappeared into the parlour. He emerged a few moments later, his face a picture of fury, and shouted:

"WHERE IN THE NAME OF MORGANA IS THE STINKING COFFEE?"

Tonks looked at me with a worried expression.

"We have run out," I cautiously informed him. Sirius took a moment to take his anger out on the china plates which he threw them across the room into the wall. Once he had vented his frustration he sat down between Tonks and I, and asked quite calmly.

"Do we have any tea?"

"I think there is some left in the teapot," I said, deciding not to comment on his melodramatic display. I took my wand from my pocket and magically fixed all the broken plates. Sirius rested his head in one of his hands and with the other poured himself a cup of tea. Slowly and in silence he drank it, while Tonks and I exchanged glances.

"What's up with him?" Tonks mouthed to me and I shrugged. Sirius noticed our silent communication so lifted his head to look at us. In response Tonks and I directed our eyes quickly back to the paper we had in front of us. We sat in silence while Sirius drank his tea.

"Kreacher, has been driving me mad," Sirius said eventually. I considered telling him that he had been mad for a long time and Kreacher probably had nothing to do with it, but then thought better of it. "This house is creepy enough without turning a corner to find the toerag drooling over a picture of my mother. He's supposed to be a house-elf and yet he never does any bloody cleaning."

"Well, he is very old," I said causally. Sirius sighed, picked up his tea cup and looked at me. Then he looked at Tonks. Then back at me.

"You two still not talking?"

"We're not not talking," Tonks and I both said at the same time. Sirius gave us both a half smile.

"Right okay. So it's not the case that you've been avoiding each other ever since-"

"Would you like some toast Sirius?" I said before he could finish his sentence. Sirius stared at me with those puckish eyes of his.

"No thanks," he said before getting up and heading towards the kitchen sink, presumably with the intention of depositing his empty teacup. However, en route, something sparked his interest.

"Ooh what's this?" Sirius said in a teasing voice. I looked up to see him snatch the drawing Tonks had been working on from her hands. "Goodness Tonks I didn't know you felt this way!" he added. Tonks jumped from her seat and tried to snatch the paper back but Sirius just held the paper above her head. Tonks pulled a sly expression and began to morph so that she was as tall as Sirius. Sirius, not wanting to be beaten, began to run around the table with Tonks chasing after him.

"Give it back you git!" she yelled while Sirius laughed. Nothing like tormenting your cousin to cure your bad mood.

"Maybe I should show Remus! See what he thinks of your artistic ability!" Sirius shouted successfully grabbing my full attention.

"No!" Tonks shrieked looking quite panic stricken. "No you can't!" Sirius stopped running and stood on my right side with the drawing in his hand, smiling mischievously at Tonks who had stopped on my left side.

"Why not Tonksie?" Sirius teased.

"Er...It's not finished..." Tonks said her cheeks starting to go a little pink, which really was an adorable sight.

"Is it a drawing of me?" I guessed.

"Why, yes Remus it is," Sirius declared laying the picture before me while Tonks made a strange squeaking noise. I was momentarily stunned. Tonks was very good at drawing, much better than I was. It was a magical drawing so it moved, but it was the expression in Tonks' pencil lines rather than the movement of her drawing that made it seem like it was really alive. Even more stunning than that was that she had made me look handsome. She must have been drawing me as I read because in the picture I was looking down, running my hand through my hair whenever it fell into my face and every so often rubbing my right eyebrow in an absent-minded kind of way. Occasionally I looked up and smiled slightly, which was when I noticed how different Tonks had made me look. I looked younger, less tired, less ill-looking, more happy. She had drawn the scar that streaked across my nose and the one underneath my eye, but somehow they didn't look like the unsightly disfigurements they really were. I don't know how she did it but whenever I tried to look at my scars my eyes were tugged towards either my eye or my cheekbones. There was genuine artistry at work for her drawing even told me where to look.

"You've made me better looking," I said.

"No I haven't," Tonks insisted looking determinedly at me. I looked at her for a few moments utterly unable to comprehend how a simple drawing could make me feel like this. Why? _Why_ had she drawn me that way?

"You are very good," I said holding the drawing out for Tonks to take.

"Cheers," She said taking the drawing back. I stared at her eyes but I have never been able to read minds. Tonks, just like every other woman, was a mystery to me.

"You know Remus used to like drawing when he was younger," Sirius said casually.

"Really?" Said Tonks.

"Er, well, I suppose, in my spare time," I answered awkwardly. "I was never very good though."

"You used to like it thought, right?" Sirius asked.

"Yes..." I said looking suspiciously at my old friend.

"Maybe Tonks could give you some lessons," said the wily bastard and Tonks burst out laughing. Then she abruptly stopped upon seeing Sirius' face.

"Oh you're serious," she said.

"Sirius, Tonks has far better ways to spend her time," I said in as final a tone I could manage. I stood up with the intention of leaving before Sirius could say something that might incriminate me. But I was forced to hesitate as Sirius continued to play the fool.

"Wait a second Moony. Didn't you say you were struggling with some report you have to write for work, Tonks?" said Sirius in a tone so falsely innocent I wondered why Tonks hadn't smacked him already and told him to stop being such an idiot.

"Er, yeah I guess," Tonks said, then she turned to me, "it's about why proteagen charms don't always work – I've got to give a brief to this year's intake of trainee aurors. I mean, I understand it all, but I just can't explain it in a way that'll be simple for them to understand."

"Ah, well that's exactly Remus' forte!" said Sirius. "He can help you with your report and you can help him learn to draw properly. It's a fair exchange don't you think?"

I glared at Sirius, whom I could see was trying desperately not to laugh.

"I suppose-" said Tonks.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Sirius before Tonks had a chance to continue. "Remus could drop round your flat tomorrow at about nine – after dinner – and you can engage in some lively intercourse."

"Of knowledge, of course." Sirius added upon seeing my expression.

"Er I guess-" Tonks began.

"Lovely. It's a date. I mean – it's settled," Sirius said grinning like a cheshire cat. He flung his arms around both of us and pulled us into an uncomfortable three-person hug. "Right, well, I'll see you kids later. Have a good day at work Tonks."

His mood miraculously improved, Sirius left Tonks and I standing dumbstruck in the kitchen. Once he was gone I turned to her with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry about that," I said, "I don't suppose you missed any of the subtext expressed in that five minutes of madness?"

"No, it was pretty clear," Tonks said fiddling with one of the many earrings she wore.

"Subtlety is not Sirius' strong suit."

"In all seriousness though, I was kinda hoping you'd help me with this report I have to do," Tonks said running her hand through her bubblegum coloured hair. "I've been meaning to ask you, but I haven't 'cos, you know, it's been a bit weird."

I glanced down at her lips for a few seconds before I spoke. "That's my fault," I said. "I've been – I've felt, uh, embarrassed since the ball. I put you in an awkward position. I had no right to do that."

"Are you talking about when that wanker said those things to you?" said Tonks. "You didn't make me do anything. Even if I didn't know you I would still have yelled at him. He was being a total jerk."

"I am sorry for that as well. But I was actually talking about...the other thing," I said quietly.

"Oh," said Tonks before biting her lip. "It didn't – I mean, I didn't mind..."

"I...It was still wrong of me," I said inarticulately, I took a breath to continue, to try and fix the awkward tension I had created, but I couldn't find the right words. Tonks waited expectantly, but when I didn't say anything she just nodded and looked away from me. Suddenly the room was filled with a shrill voice squawking: "You're gonna be late! You're gonna be late!" To my astonishment the voice was coming from Tonks' chest. She winced and hastily pulled a chain out from underneath her shirt. I swallowed and quickly looked away lest my eyes be tempted to wander. I looked back when Tonks had the pendant of her necklace in her hand. It turned out to be a small silver watch.

"Ah, I have to go," Tonks said looking at the watch. "Do you want to come over tomorrow then?" She added her voice slightly more high-pitched than was normal.

I hesitated but then, fearing that I might disappoint her, with a sigh I said: "Alright."

"Okay, cool," she said before biting her lip, "I'll see you tomorrow I guess. Say goodbye to that madman for me." Tonks grabbed her leather satchel and headed for the fireplace.

"I will," I said waving at her as she threw some floo powder into the fire. She smiled, waved at me and she stepped into the green flames. A few seconds later she was gone, and the kitchen was all the greyer for it. I breathed out slowly then headed upstairs to punish Sirius.

I found him in the drawing room at the piano. He was playing Prelude in G minor by Rachmannioff, a song so undeniably impressive that I decided to postpone telling him off and listen for a while. I regret that I never learnt to play a musical instrument. I love listening to music, and greatly admire anyone who could play an instrument, but sadly my life left no room for me to learn. Sirius I knew took this talent of his for granted. I never even knew he could play the piano until he was sixteen, and even then he only mentioned it in passing. But then, it was natural for Sirius to have a love-hate relationship with his piano playing. One the one hand, his parents whom he hated had forced him to learn so he had to hate it, but on the other, he couldn't help but love music. It was like an arranged marriage that by chance worked out: at first Sirius had resented his wife for being forced upon him, but because his wife was so sublime he accidentally fell in love with her.

When Sirius finished I sighed and smiled reluctantly. Sirius chuckled and played a few notes of baa baa black sheep.

"I suppose you think you've been very clever?" I said cooly walking further into the room, with my hands in my pockets.

"I don't think, I _know_, Moony," said Sirius twisting round on the piano stool so that he could face me when I reached the sofa.

"You can't know Sirius because in order to know something it has to be true, and it is not true, you are not clever, you are nuisance," I said sitting down. I stretched my legs out in front of me and leant back in the chair.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it, because I knew you wouldn't," said Sirius.

"But if I go it will only make it harder," I said covering my eyes with the palms of my hands suddenly feeling exhausted.

"Make what harder?"

"Trying to forget this...this...thing," I mumbled.

"But you don't need to forget it! You're assuming she'll reject you before you've even given her a chance. You should ask her out, then see what happens."

"I can't do that!" I said now pressing my palms against my eyes.

"But you would be so good together. She'd make you so happy," I heard Sirius say. I released my eyes to look at him. He was frowning at me, clearly concerned about me, which was kind but unnecessary.

"But I would not make her happy," I said quietly with a sense of defeat.

"You would, you moron!" Sirius argued frustratedly. "Please don't let another great girl slip away from you because you think everyone will end up hating you just as much as you hate yourself."

"I don't hate myself."

"Yes you do! You know you do. You _only_ _ever_ see your faults and you only remember your mistakes; it's like you just don't see the good stuff the rest of us do," Sirius said with a tinge of anger. I looked away from him and at the fireplace. I remembered when Sirius and I had first come back to Grimmauld Place and I had seen one of Sirius' memories played out by ghosts. I remembered Bellatrix Black burning a ferret in that fireplace and a nine year old Sirius pull the animal out with his bare hands. Sirius was a far greater man than I was.

"I have nothing to offer her," I said turning back to Sirius who rolled his eyes.

"It's like talking to a wall," he said exasperatedly. "Look, just go and see what happens. You're not committing yourself to anything, or giving her the wrong idea, you are just spending an evening with a friend."

I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make it easier for me to go along with his foolish plan. But leaving Sirius' schemes aside, there was no harm in spending time with a friend, and Tonks was a friend.

"I already said I'd go," I admitted. Sirius clapped his hands together and grinned.

"Good, great," he said with inordinate enthusiasm. "Try not to be a grumpy bastard, and you know maybe you should get Molly to give you a hair cut, that picture Tonks did you of really was _very_ flattering."

"I thought I was 'just spending an evening with a friend'; what does it matter what I look like?" I asked with narrowed eyes.

"Remus," was all Sirius said, but like a mother he said it in just the right way to make me desist my petulance. Shortly after that, Sirius left me alone in the drawing room. In the silence I thought about Tonks. My thoughts meandered from the picture she had drawn to nearly kissing her to the watch she had pulled out of her shirt. It was at that point an idea struck me. I reached into my trouser pocket and pulled out my own pocket watch. I opened the watch and looked at it's scratched face. I hesitated, nervous about what the answer to my question would be, but then I took a deep breath and asked:

"Does Tonks have feelings for me?"

The watch did nothing for what seemed like a decade, then the face went blank and a few seconds later, in silver letters, the word "no" appeared. My heart sank. I know I should not have been hoping for the watch to say "yes", but what with Sirius had said...I had begun to hope...

My thoughts were cut short because the message written on the watch had changed. Now it said: "yes." I glared at the little timepiece.

"Well which is it?" I demanded.

"No," said the watch. I gave it a shake, convinced it was broken.

"Yes," it said.

"You are no help at all!" I accused the watch as it changed its mind again. I threw the watch across the room and it landed on the second sofa opposite the one I was sitting on and proceeded to disappear into the cushions. I didn't bother to retrieve it.

The next night at dinner I was unable to eat anything. A number of Order members had stayed after the night's meeting to have some of Molly's home-cooked dinner (spaghetti Bolognese) but as lovely as it surely was, I struggled to eat it. I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen when the meal ended, when Tonks would be taking me to her home. I didn't sit near her during the meeting or during dinner, instead I sat quietly at the other end of the table in between Dedelus Diggle and - who were both engaged in separate conversations. I spent a large part of the dinner imagining what Tonks' flat would look like. Of course in my head her flat was as lovely as her and so a small piece of paradise. I imagined it to be full of colour naturally, with lots of pictures on the wall and interesting objects dotting around the place; I knew she liked astronomy so I'm sure she had a telescope and I knew she liked herbology as well so she probably had lots of plants in her home. As intrigued as I was to see where Tonks loved, I couldn't help but worry about the unmissable implications of our evening plans. What had I agreed to? What did she think was going to happen?

I watched her chat happily to Sirius and Fleur, for a moment I worried that they were conspiring against me, but Tonks hardly looked at me, she seemed far more interested in what Sirius was saying. I had no idea what he was talking about but Tonks and Fleur were practically crying with laughter. Come desert, I was beginning to think that maybe she had actually forgotten our arrangement, but once Molly hand magically sent all the dirty desert dishes to the sink and the Order members began to disperse, she sought me out.

"Wotcher," she said sitting next to me. I hear Sirius' loud laugh in the background and Mungdungus make a squeak as if someone had trodden on his foot, but I didn't look round to check, my eyes were stuck on Tonks. Her hair was long and mint green today and looked fantastic against her pale skin.

"What does green hair feel like?" I asked, and she smiled.

"This shade of green feels like peach skin," she replied running her fingers through her hair making me want to reach out and do the same.

"And green eyes feel like spinach leaves," I said looking at her matching green eyes.

"Yes," she said with a bright smile, "how do you remember this stuff?"

"You know, if you've changed you mind..." I began after a few seconds of silence.

"No!" Tonks exclaimed. "Seriously! I need you!"

I laughed and the knots in my stomach immediately dissolved.

"I've got to give this report tomorrow and I was trying to write it last night and I just couldn't, like, think of a sensible place to start," Tonks told me.

"Well, these things are easier if you start with some simple concept and build up from there," I said.

"Ah ah!" Tonks said playfully grabbing my arm, "save it. I got some elf wine, so you can talk me through it while we get pissed – er I mean, oh you know what I mean."

I laughed again, "alright Tonks. Do you want to go now?"

"Yeah sure," Tonks said tugging her watch from underneath her Weird Sisters T-shirt, she checked the time, then checked who was left in the kitchen. "What do you say we slip away before Sirius says something to make it weird?"

"I think that's a good idea," I whispered following Tonks out of the kitchen.

My mind was still rife with mixed emotions as I watched Tonks walk merrily through number twelve's gloomy corridors. She was a wearing a short skirt, purple tights and some pretty hefty boots, they looked great but they rather hindered her ability to avoid the umbrella stand. Fortunately I was there to catch her.

"Cheers. One day I'll master walking in a straight line," she joked.

"Of course," I said kindly leaving my hands on her arms slightly longer than was necessary. Tonks grinned and grabbed her leather fur-lined coat from one of the deer foot coat hooks on the wall, I took my tatty wool one.

"Do you want to walk?" Tonks asked.

"I don't mind," I replied.

"It's got a bit cold though..." she added as she magically opened the front door. A blast of cold air hit us, confirming her worries.

"Don't worry, I can cast a sheltering charm, we'll be fine," I said. Of course, the thing about sheltering charms is that you have to be quite close to each other for it to cover both of you. Although I felt a bit conscience-stricken, Tonks didn't seem to mind much walking arm in arm with me. She happily discussed Sirius' upcoming birthday among other things.

"It's the thirtieth isn't it? Not this sunday coming but the next one?" she asked.

"Yes that's right."

"We should do something, have a party or get a cake or something."

"I don't know if he wants to draw that much attention to the fact he's turning thirty six."

"Thirty six? He told me he was only thirty one!"

I let out a hearty laugh, "I thought you'd realised by now how ill acquainted Padfoot is with the truth."

"Does that mean you're thirty six as well?"

"Not until March."

There was a short silence and I wondered if Tonks was thinking about the large age gap between us. I wondered if it bothered her as it certainly bothered me.

"I don't think of you and Sirius as older than me you know," Tonks said. "I don't think about it much really. Obviously in some respects you seem a lot older, but you're both so immature sometimes I feel like the older one."

"Both of us?" I questioned pretending to be offended. "I'm never immature."

"You are completely immature! You're just so much sneakier about it," she replied. "I know it was you who put Mad-Eye's eye in the sugar bowel."

"What? I had nothing to do with it," I lied.

"On come on! I saw you pretending not to laugh when Molly found it and nearly wet herself, _and_ I saw you smirking when Sirius got told off for it! I just can't believe you let him take the wrap for it! I thought you were noble."

I sniggered and conceded Tonks's point.

"Anyway, back to Sirius's birthday. I thought seeing as he's been having such a tough time lately, it might be nice to get a cake and invite some Order members to stay behind one night. Not too many, just Bill, Fluer, Dung...Molly and Arthur maybe. It could be a surprise but still not a huge big thing."

"Yes alright, that sounds like fun. I'm sure if we asked nicely Molly would make the cake for us."

"Yeah. It'll be great."

I looked down at Tonks to try and see her eyes, but her hair was obscuring them.

"You are very fond of Sirius aren't you?" I said feeling a twinge of jealousy.

"Yeah of course," Tonks said looking up at me. I could now see that her eyes were Sirius-grey. She looked at me a few moments more and then, as if she had read my thoughts, she added: "but in a brotherly way." I smiled and turned my face back to the road ahead of us.

It took about twenty minutes for us to walk to Tonks's flat. Her building looked very different to when I had last been there. In the dark the door looked grey instead of blue, but the gold glow from the windows was very inviting. Tonks skipped up the stone steps to her door and I slowly followed. She spent five minutes fishing around in her pockets for her keys, then with a frustrated groan gave up looking for them and opened the door by magic.

"I know they're in there somewhere, they just like to hide..." she mumbled as we stepped through the door. With magnolia walls and a faded blue carpet the hallway looked just like the entrance to any other apartment building. There was a small console table with a tray full of post that Tonks quickly glanced at but didn't thoroughly check.

"It's just muggle post in there," she told me, "mine gets delivered to my window. There are four muggles in this building, then Hestia and me live up the top. Lots of stairs I'm afraid."

Four flights in fact. We could have apparated of course, but that would have taken away the strange romance of having a woman lead you upstairs. When we reached the top floor there were two red doors, one which was presumably Hestia's front door, and one which had a little brass knocker in the shape of an owl and a small sigh that said 'N. Tonks'.

"Just N, not Nymphadora?" I teased. Tonks gave me a look of mock chastisement and punched my arm.

"You're not allowed to say the N word."

I chuckled while Tonks tapped the knocker discreetly with her wand. There was a soft clicking sound then Tonks pushed open the door. She smiled at me and went inside. I hesitated for a moment, then I stepped into her home.


	57. Tonks's Flat

I'm definitely for women being assertive when it comes to relationships, and Tonks is too...but Tonks and Lupin' relationship is a special case...Tonks doesn't quite know how to play it with him so she's being more cautious.

(Oh and NB: there's some crude language in this chapter - let me know if you think it jars)

57 Tonks's Flat

Tonk's flat was not a disappointment. As soon as I entered I started imagining what it would be like to live there. On the other side of the front door there was a short hallway that led leftwards. Hanging on the wall was a poster of the weird sisters, an antique map and some brightly colour coat hooks which Tonks proceeded to throw her coat at. The hooks, sensing Tonks coat flying towards them, reached out from the wall and plucked it from the air before it had time to fall to the ground. I took of my coat and held it out for the hooks which dutifully reached out and took it from me. The map was of 18th century Paris and all the important magical sites were marked with small pen and ink drawings of the kinds of magic that went on there. The hospital for example had a tiny drawing of a wizard with dragon pox sneezing flames.

"I knew you'd like my map," Tonks commented as I admired it.

"It's very beautiful," I said.

"It was a christening present from my great grandfather," said Tonks. "Mum wasn't going to let me take it with me when I moved out, she was afraid I would damage it, accidentally throw something at it or drop it, but I love it so much I insisted. I can spend hours looking at it, there is just so much in it."

"Yes I know what you mean, it's fascinating," I said enthusiastically, and Tonks beamed at me. She turned and walked further into her flat. I followed her but was soon distracted again, this time by Tonks's bookshelf. It was jam-packed, mostly with books but also with records and photographs and a few ornaments including some magical origami cranes. I felt a glow of happiness as I counted ten, twelve, fourteen books that Tonks and I had in common.

"Do you mind white?" Tonks asked me and for a moment I had no idea what she was talking about. I turned around to face her. She was standing in her kitchenette with some elf wine in front of her and two glasses in her hands. Her kitchen was not the tidiest of kitchens, there was a lot of clutter on the island she was standing behind, notebooks, pieces of parchment, quills and the like, and the sink was burdened with a fair amount of dirty dishes. However, it wouldn't be Tonks's kitchen if it were clean. There were also a multitude of kitchen plants lining the window sill and hanging form the tops of the cabinets.

"Oh er, yes white is fine," I said.

"I know you normally drink red," said Tonks, "but they only had white. Er well, they did have red but it was a little beyond my price range."

I felt another wave of guilt: she had spent money on me.

"Tonks you shouldn't have gone to any trouble for me," I said.

"Only half of it is for you and if you hadn't come I would drink it all myself." Tonks raised one eyebrow mischievously and I grinned.

Tonks's kitchen was continuous with her living room which was as warm and bright and comfortable as I had hoped. To my left under the window was a large slouchy sofa, covered with cushions of various exotic fabrics. Multicoloured candles lined the window sill. Next to the the sofa were a few shallow steps that led into a small but very pretty hexagonal room. The room nestled inside a turret and housed Tonks's desk, which to my surprise was actually tidier than mine! She also had a beautiful brass telescope pointed at one of the windows, just as I had predicted.

To my right was the fireplace with an old wood-burning stove. I imagined Tonks and I sitting next to it and roasting marshmallows in the winter.

"Shall I light the fire?" I asked, running my hand through my hair and pulling my wand from my pocket.

"Yes please, it's a bit chilly," replied Tonks from the kitchen. With spell I opened the door of the wood burner. It was already laid with wood so all I had to do was cast a simple igniting spell and soon a warm glow lit the room. The glow illuminated the many pictures hanging on the wall above. They were clustered together in the manner of a collage; pictures of things Tonks loved all together, a Matisse print, a photograph of Paris, a painting of a river by an artist I didn't know, and a charcoal drawing of Andromeda. It was the portrait of Tonks's mother that intrigued me the most. The expressive strokes of charcoal was so similar to the drawing Tonks had done of me that I reasoned it must have been drawn by her.

"Did you draw that?" I pointed to the portrait.

"Yes," Tonks replied walking towards me with my wine glass. I took the glass and thanked her. Tonks held her own glass in my direction and with a nervous chuckle I chinked my glass against hers then we both drank.

"Sit down, I'll just go and get my notes for the presentation thingy," Tonks said gesturing towards the sofa. I nodded and went and sat down. I noticed from my new vantage point on the sofa that opposite the kitchen was Tonks's bedroom. It was separated from the main living space by a wall made of windows. The windows were various shapes and size, with different coloured frames, and some with stained glass. They floated in the air between the living room and the bedroom by magic adding a sense of mystery and charm. I couldn't really see in as the lights were not on in her room. I could just about make out the bed, a nice double bed with a quilt thrown over it. I don't suppose I need to say what I imagined Tonks and I doing in there.

"Here it is," Tonks said tugging me away from my thoughts.

Tonks handed me a draft of her presentation so I put my wine glass on the coffee table and scanned through her notes.

"This all looks good," I said gesturing to the parchment. "It's clear you know what you are talking about."

Tonks gave a small smile of gratitude and fiddled with her hair, demonstrating her modesty.

"It's not really a presentation though...it's more of an essay," she said. I turned back to her 'essay' with a hum of contemplation.

"Mm, perhaps," I mused, "it's a good essay. Though if it were an essay I would encourage you to develop this part here when you start to offer your own ideas about the mechanics of deflection charms."

Tonks narrowed her eyes at me.

"Oh, er, sorry," I said, "I can't help myself."

Tonks laughed and kicked off her boots before crossing her legs on the sofa.

"How do I start it without it being boring?" Tonks asked.

"Well I usually start a class by asking the students what they already know," I said, "that way you can use their existing knowledge as the foundation for what you teach them."

"Okay," Tonks said thoughtfully, "that might help me actually, ease me in so to speak."

"You could also tell a story about a time when this knowledge was important to you," I added, "you'll be talking to newly recruited aurors won't you?"

"Er, well their training to be hit wizards actually – although some of them may be selected to be aurors if they're good enough."

"I see, well, they'll still be intensely interested in any stories a qualified auror has to tell."

"I can't think of anything," Tonks said pulling her knees up to her chin and hugging her legs. "Oh wait!"

I sipped my wine and smiled in anticipation.

"Not long after I qualified, I went out on an investigation in the New Forest. It was supposed to be straightforward – something fairly standard for my first go. Faxon Proudfoot was leading it. Do you remember him?"

"Er, no, I'm afraid not," I admitted.

"He's got short blonde hair – well it's actually black but he dyes it - quite good looking but a complete bastard."

I strained to remember. I thought of the aurors I had seen in the Ministry of Magic a year ago after I appealed the Minsitry's decision to cage me during full moons. I remembered watching them come up from the department of mysteries, a department now familiar to me, with their arms full of parchments. I remembered how they teased Tonks about her morphing ability. Then Proudfoot surfaced in my mind. I remembered him leering at Tonks, asking her innappropriate questions and laughing at her when she slipped on the floor. I felt a flash of protective anger.

"Ah, I remember him now," I said with a snarl that I could tell Tonks was pleased to see. "Not a very charming young man."

Tonks sniggered.

"I love your put-downs, they're so subtle," she said, "anyway, he was leading the investigation and would not shut up about how he was in charge. He kept calling me 'missy' and 'darling'. It made my skin crawl. And every time I asked a question he'd look at me like I was a moron for not already knowing the answer. I mean – if you've not told me how am I supposed to know? Anyway, he cast a protego charm over us and told us with insurmountable confidence: 'I'm killer at protegean charms, it would take a dragon to break through that!'"

I laughed having already worked out what would happen.

"Yeah, you've got it," said Tonks, "less than five minutes after he'd cast the charm, it was broken by an elbow hex-"

"A what?"

"I don't know its official name, I can't even remember the incantation, but it causes you to develop elbows literally everywhere. When the hex hit Faxon, he became an entity entirely make out of corners covered in in wrinkly skin. It was grotesque, but freaking hilarious at the same time. Especially when he tried to fight back. His arms had so many joints in he couldn't control them at all and his spells kept flicking everywhere. Nine times out of ten he ended up hexing himself." Tonks failed her arms around to try and demonstrate Proudfoot's dilemma. She knocked her wine glass but fortunately I managed to catch it before it fell.

"Anyway," Tonks continued, after bashfully thanking my for catching her glass, "it turned out the hex had come from Mad-Eye. He came baring down through the forrest brandishing his walking stick like a sword yelling 'that'll teach you, you arrogant buffoon!' Faxon practically wet himself at the sight. Mad-Eye when he's angry is defiantly scarier than any death eater."

"Definitely," I agreed.

"I could use that, I wouldn't be able to mention Faxon's name, but I could just say 'an auror'."

"He might still here about it. Would that bother you?"

"To be honest, not really," Tonks said with a shrug, "he's a dick, the more people that know the better. Anyway, you can talk: you used Snape as the butt of a joke in a lesson."

"That is true, I did," I admitted, "I'd feel more guilty about it if I wasn't so damn funny."

Over the next half hour Tonks and I finished the bottle of elf wine and planned her presentation, even having a short duel to practice deflection spells. Tonks beat me hands down with a very creative hex. The hex effectively transformed me into a kind of magnet for anything movable. As soon as I came close to a movable object it stuck to my body. The cushions zoomed off the sofa and stuck to my torso, the wine glasses and bottle stuck to my arms, the books and papers on the coffee table stuck to my legs and every time I tried to pull anything off me a new object would take its place. Within twenty seconds I was trapped in a cocoon of Tonks's things. Tonks giggled like a hyena as I waddled around the room like a yeti made of cushions and books.

"Finite!" I called, my voice muffled by the blanket stuck to my face. My spell had no effect whatsoever. "What's the counter-curse?"

"Assez!" Tonks yelled.

Object stopped attaching themselves to me and I was able to start pulling things off without them sticking to my hands. I pulled the blanket off first.

"Assez?" I questioned and Tonks shrugged.

"It's a french spell. Now while you take all that off, I'm going to go pee."

I chuckled and removed the cushions and candles from my body while Tonks skipped into her bedroom and through a door at the other end of it. As I removed the books that had stuck to my legs I noticed one of them was a sketch book. Curiosity got the better of me and I sat on the sofa to have a look at it. It was bound in black leather and A3 size. I opened it and found that it was full of drawings of people, mostly portraits. They were a mixture of magical and non magical drawings, and I think I actually liked the non-magical ones best. Most of the faces were of people I didn't know. Men and women, young and old, all with interesting sometimes unusual features. I recognised a few of the faces though: there were a couple of Fleur, a few of Andromeda, one of Tonks's father Ted, and near the end there was one of Sirius. Tonks must have drawn him from memory as I don't remember ever seeing her with this sketchbook. He was staring out from the paper looking distinctly moody. It was quite obviously a post-Azkaban portrait. There was also another drawing of me. I was resting my head against my fist and smiling fondly at something, perhaps I was listening to Sirius telling an amusing story from our past. Again Tonks had made me look more handsome than I really was.

I suddenly heard music start to play. I looked up and could see through the windows of Tonks's bedroom that she had started playing a record on a record player that sat of the console table in her room. Smiling, Tonks walked back into the living room. She noticed what I was looking at at blushed.

"Oh, you're not looking at that are you?" she said squirming.

"They are very good," I said, "who are they all?"

"Most of them aren't real people," Tonks told me. She sat down next to me and looking over my shoulder at the drawings. "They are just, characters from my imagination."

"You drew these from imagination?" I looked back at the drawings. They looked so lifelike and so detailed it was amazing to think that Tonks hadn't drawn them directly from an existing model.

"I love people's faces," Tonks said reaching over me to turn the page of the sketchbook. She deliberately brushed her hand along mine as she turned the page. I would have pulled my hand away or said something, because such displays of affection were inappropriate, but it felt so nice I couldn't bring myself to stop her; in fact, I went as far as to lift my fingers from the sketchbook so that for a moment Tonks could lace her fingers with mine. On the next page was a drawing of a young man with thick eyebrows and an elderly woman with twinkling eyes and an upturned mouth.

"The weirder the better, I think," Tonks continued. "When I'm walking around I watch people and look at their faces, the bits that make them unique. Quite a lot of the time if I see a feature that feels nice, I'll wear it for a while. Like these eyebrows are Ginny's -" I noticed Tonks' fairly thick but elegantly arched eyebrows "- and these eyes are Sirius's."

"Yes, I already noticed that. They suit you, though not as much as that sort of bluy-green colour," I said. Tonks immediately changed the colour of her eyes.

"This is my natural eye colour," she said happily. "When I see a feature I like, I remember it, I remember what it feels like, then when I come home I can recreate it on my own face. Then I can draw it. Sometimes I mix the feature with others. It's weird but sometimes features that feel really nice together, don't actually look nice – like this guy."

Tonks turned the page again, indulging in another quick caress of my hand as she did so. On the next page was a very feminine looking man – apart from his very large odd looking nose.

"See, that face feels great. His girly chin feels like really soft fur, like baby rabbit fur, and his nose feels like warm suede, which goes really nicely I think, but it looks a bit odd," Tonks explained making me chuckle. "I suppose it's only because I can morph that faces fascinate me so."

"I've helped you with your presentation, I think it's time for you to honour your part of the deal," I said changing the subject slightly, "can you teach me how to draw?"

"Okay, let me just get another bottle of wine," Tonks said jumping from the sofa and skipping to the kitchen, only tripping on her rug twice. "Afraid we're onto the cheap red stuff now – but that won't bother you will it?"

A short while later, with a large piece of parchment on the coffee table in front of me and a soft lead pencil in my hand, I sat cross-legged on the floor and, as I had been instructed, I attempted to draw Tonks. She sat at the opposite end of the coffee table with her sketchbook and happily drew me. Her pencil flew across the paper so confidently, whereas mine had only managed a dodgy outline of her face. Tonks had told me she always started with the shape of her model's head, though she was unsure why as after she had drawn the features, the nose, eyes and mouth, she invariably changed the shape of the head. Feeling more than apprehensive, I started trying to draw Tonks's nose. I suppose it was easier for Tonks as she had a recipe of feelings to help her capture my face, I only had visual cues. I did my best to draw Tonks pretty heart shaped face, large roundish eyes, straight nose and that beautiful full mouth of hers, but no matter what I did it just didn't look right. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly was wrong with it, but it just didn't look like her. It looked like someone who looked like her, but not like her.

"How's it coming?" Tonks asked me five or ten minutes later.

"Oh, it's awful...it doesn't look like you at all," I complained as I used my wand to erase the shadow I had just drawn underneath Tonks's nose.

"Stop erasing stuff, you're gonna blow a hole in the paper," Tonks told me. Then she set down her own drawing and shuffled along the floor to look over my shoulder. I shielded the drawing from her for a few moments before she lost her patience and forced me to show her by jabbing me in the ribs with her index finger.

"It's alright," she comforted, "what do you mean it doesn't look like me?"

"It doesn't. You are much prettier than that."

"Maybe you are drawing what I look like, but not how you see me."

"What does that mean?"

Tonks licked her lips before she explained.

"Well, when a picture really looks like someone, it's because it captures their character. All the little things that make them them. You can never get that if you just draw exactly what's there. Like with you..." Tonks stretched over to the other side of the coffee table to grab her sketchbook then sat back down next to me balancing the sketchbook on her crossed legs.

"I make you're face a bit thinner than it actually is," Tonks said, running her fingers gently down the side of my face in her drawing, "because you always strike me as having a thin face, and I make your eyebrows thicker because you are always rubbing them, and I make more of this bump on your nose because I really like that bit. You have a lovely cupid's bow...I don't really do anything to that."

"You do a caricature?" I questioned.

"No, not exactly, it's not as strong as that," replied Tonks. "What are the bits about me that you think make me look like me?"

"Well, it's hard to say, you change your face so often."

"I usually keep most of it the same."

"You always keep your mouth the same." I looked at the soft lips in question and felt a tugging in my abdomen.

"Yes, I like my mouth," Tonks said touching it. "It's about the only bit I do like. I hate my natural nose."

"Why?"

"It's too big, it completely overshadows the rest of my face."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"It is! It's like a beak."

"Let me see."

In response to my gentle coaxing, Tonks wrinkled the small straight nose she was currently wearing but then let it transform into the nose she was born with. It was slightly bigger than the noses I had seen her wear before, and not quite as straight, but nothing like the proboscis Tonks had invited me to imagine.

"It's fine! It's not too big," I insisted.

"It doesn't suit me though," Tonks said gingerly touching her natural nose.

"Of course it does."

"No it doesn't. Trouble is I don't know what sort of nose would suit me, that's why I change it so much."

"It does suit you," I said leaning close to her. "It's my favourite of your noses."

Tonks laughed and rolled her eyes, then proceeded to punch me in the arm. I flinched not expecting a compliment to engender such an aggressive reaction.

"Flirt!" Tonks accused and I laughed as well.

Our laugh-prone slightly dreamy mood was no doubt influenced by the second bottle of wine we were quickly getting through. Or not so quickly as it turned out: before we knew it it was past midnight. The time seemed to had disappeared along with the wine and Tonks's tights (she had announced frustratedly that they were irritating her so dissapparated reappearing a few seconds later with her long athletic legs beautifully bare). We had tired of drawing and had spent the last three glasses sitting closely on the sofa with the warmth of the fire glowing over us. Tonks had done most of the talking. Unlike me, the consumption of alcohol didn't seem to exhaust her.

Tonks told me about the friends she had had at school, and in telling me about the marauder-ish japes and capers Tonks had orchestrated, I got the impression that Tonks had been quite popular. Which made me wonder where her friends were now. She had once told me that she didn't have that many friends in London, but I couldn't understand why that was. I suppose with her job being as dangerous and time consuming as it was, her social life was bound to suffer a little, but I couldn't help but feel there was more to it than that. It seemed that Tonks always kept the people she met at an arm's length. The reason for this became clear when Tonks told me that her best friend at school, a muggleborn witch called Tanya Willows, had been killed by a Death Eater when she was sixteen. Tanya's death had been the impetus behind Tonks' decision to become an auror, and since her death Tonks had felt somewhat disconnected from everyone else. All the people she met felt so bland compared to Tanya Tonks had said. The only people Tonks really got on with now and felt completely relaxed with, were Sirius and I.

As Tonks spoke I found myself examining her eyes. They had become much bluer, and when she looked directly at me I felt like she was trying to read my mind. We were very similar, Tonk and I. With mixed emotions I realised that I could really love her, if I let myself.

I decided shortly after that that it was time that I went home. I was a bit to tired to walk back and a bit too drunk to apparate so Tonks suggested I floo. I looked at Tonks' tiny wood-burning stove and felt perplexed. Was she joking? How was I supposed to fit inside that? I remembered five seconds later that I was a wizard and felt glad that I hadn't asked those questions out loud. I got out my wand and, concentrating more carefully than usual, I transfigured the fireplace into one I could step into, then threw in some floo power. The flames changed from gold to green and I turned to Tonks to say goodbye. Upon seeing her face I forgot what I wanted to say and just smiled like an idiot instead. Tonks rolled her eyes at me.

"Thanks for helping me out with my presentation," she said.

"Not at all," I replied, "you will be great. And thanks for the wine and the drawing lesson and...everything."

There was a slightly awkward pause. I wondered if Tonks was waiting for me to kiss her. She was certainly looking at me in an expectant kind of way. I wanted to kiss her.

"Oh! Your coat!" Tonks suddenly cried, breaking the tension. She ran off in the direction of the hallway and appeared a few seconds later with my coat in her arms.

"Thank you," I said taking it from her. Then I stepped into the fire. Pleasantly warm green flames flickered around me.

"I'll see you on thursday at the meeting," Tonks said with a crestfallen tone in her voice.

"Goodnight Tonks," I said. "Number twelve Grimmauld Place," I added clearly to the fireplace. The flames grew in size and wrapped around me. Through the flames I could see Tonks morphing to her natural form. Her hair changed from mint green to its natural light brown and lengthened till it reached her waist. She stood in front of me in her natural form and smiled, tucking her long hair behind her ears. She had told me once her natural form felt to her like a light breeze against her skin, and for a moment I felt that too when I looked at her.

"You are so perfect Tonks," I said, not sure it she could still hear me over the flames.

"Oh, Remus wait!" she cried reaching her hand towards me. I felt her fingers touch my chest, but it was too late, Tonks flat was disappearing and the next moment I found myself in Sirius' kitchen. Should I go back? I thought about it a moment too long. The fire started to turn back into genuine flames and burn my shoes. I jumped out to the sound of sizzling leather.

"How was your date?" I heard Sirius ask. I turned to see the marauder grinning inanely with a glass of whisky in his hand and bags under his eyes. Obviously he had stayed up deliberately to wait for me.

"What? You said it wasn't a date," I said acidly.

"Of course it was," said Sirius with a grin as wide as his face. "It met all the necessary conditions: you fancy her, she fancies you, you were alone together – in _her_ flat – there was wine – there was wine right?"

"Yes there was wine," I admitted sitting down at the kitchen table and throwing my coat over the chair next to me. I felt bad about not going back after Tonks had asked me to wait, but I was afraid at what might happen if I did go back, and it was all too easy just to pretend I hadn't heard her.

"See. It was a date."

I sighed and rolled my eyes at my conniving old friend.

"Did you have a nice time?" he asked a little more gently.

I thought about it for a moment.

"Yes," I said.

"Ooh, that was a cryptic 'yes'," exclaimed Sirius. "I can't tell whether that was a 'I'll say yes but I didn't really' sort of yes or a 'I had a _really_ good time and feel guilty about it' sort of yes. Ah it was the latter wasn't it. You feel guilty. I can tell. You've got that weird twitchy thing going on in your jaw. Tell me, how _much_ of a good time did you have?"

I gave Sirius a warning glare.

"Nothing happened Sirius," I assured him.

"Really?" Sirius whined with obvious disappointment. "Not even a kiss? Oh Moony, when will you learn? You could be ball deep in metamorphmagus right now!

"Sirius please!" I chastised. "That's your cousin you are talking about."

"So? She wants it. She adores you! You've got to go for it."

"I'm going to bed." I stood up and headed towards the door.

"Oh yeah," Sirius called irritably at me, "go upstairs and mope, you know-"

At that point I lost my patience. I turned back towards Sirius and with a whip of my wand fused his lips together. Sirius's eyes became as round as full moons and he fearfully felt his mouth – or rather the expanse of skin where his mouth once was. I smirked and Sirius hummed angrily at me. Then I left him to try and work out the counter-jinx by himself. I went upstairs, but I didn't really feel like moping, although I had plenty to mope about. I was still falling for someone I could never be with, I was still allowing myself to get close to someone who deserved much better than me. But despite all that, she still made me so happy. It was a complete paradox, but that's how it was. Thinking that I had plenty of time to feel bad about my feelings for Tonks tomorrow, I decided that for tonight, for once, I would just enjoy dreaming about her.

The next day I awoke feeling the twinges and itches and irritable feelings that signalled the oncoming full moon. They had arrived a day earlier than usual so I knew this moon would be a bad one. Poor Sirius got the worst of my foul temper, as it was around him that I was most myself. With the other Order members I had will power enough to hide my angry feelings behind a mask of politeness, but with Sirius I exercised less restraint. Sirius put up with it as gallantly as he always did, although he did loose it a little when I shouted at him for frying bacon too loudly, and, quite rightly, give me a sharp whack in the back of the head with the spatula. When the full moon actually came Sirius kindly spent it with me. But even with his company I found it difficult to restrain the wolf. In the morning, when I transformed back, I was utterly exhausted. What's more during the transformation process one of my ribs had dislocated. Fortunately this was an injury I was able to deal with myself, with the help of Sirius and a mirror, although at times he was more of a hindrance.

"Man I can see it! It's disgusting!" he exclaimed joyfully as I stood shirtless facing a full length mirror bent over like a hunchback.

"Shut up and hold the mirror," I responded. Sirius lifted the half-size mirror he had conjured so that I could see the weird lump in my back.

"Sure you don't want me to get Hestia or someone?"

"No no. It's fine I can do it myself. Move the mirror slightly to the left."

"It looks so weird."

"Mm," I mumbled not really listening, then I pointed my wand at the rib in question and said "e_piskey!_"

There was a loud, but at the same time muffled, crack, and an involuntary "ah! bugger!" from me.

I spent most of that day in bed. Usually a day's rest is enough for me to recover, but I found that two days after the full moon I was still feeling achy and run down. On thursday, after an whole afternoon struggling to stay awake, I voiced my complaints to Sirius.

Sirius was in his usual haunt, the kitchen, reading the paper and occasionally stirring the soup Molly had left for the Order to eat after the meeting.

"You know, I feel bloody awful," I moaned, falling into a chair in the kitchen. "I need to start taking wolfsbane again. I can't afford to be this tired all the time."

Sirius lowered his paper to look at me.

"That's probably a good idea," he said causally.

"I was thinking about asking Severus to make some for me," I confessed. Sirius looked at me again this time with an incredulous expression. "He can get the ingredients for free you see, so, theoretically, I wouldn't have to pay him as much as I'd have to pay a potion brewer."

"Well that would be a waste of time," Sirius said disparagingly.

"It's worth asking though isn't it? It's not just to help with these symptoms...I'm not making much progress with Greer."

"The werewolf? The nutty one?"

"You shouldn't call people nutty. But yes."

Since Dumbledore had entrusted me to get the werewolves on our side, I had made very little progress. I was fairly sure if war broke out Greer, being a pacifist, would try his hardest not to get involved. While it was reassuring that there was one werewolf who wouldn't fight on Voldemort's side, I could say nothing about any of the others. I had tried to convince Greer to let me speak to the other werewolves he knew, to try and convince them not to join Voldemort if they were asked, but Greer would not let me.

As I told Sirius: "Greer wont let me meet any of the other werewolves unless I ingratiate myself with his pack. He wants me to join them on a full moon and well, I'm just not comfortable doing that unmedicated. With you I can just about control the wolf...but I've no idea how I would behave with a group of unfamiliar wolves."

"I understand," said Sirius, "but Snape won't help you. He hates you almost as much as he hates me."

"I thought I'd frame is as one Order member helping another..." I said hopefully. "I'm just not sure I have enough humility."

"You could be the humblest person in the world, he'll still say no," insisted Sirius. I sighed and looked at the grimy Grandmother clock next to the china cabinet. It was half five, about an hour until the meeting. Moody and I were due to give a report on our mission in Leeds, but everyone already knew about it anyway. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the table in front of me. I heard Sirius' chair scrape across the kitchen floor and then his footsteps on the flagstones as he walked towards the stove on the other side of the kitchen. Only vaguely aware of Sirius moving about the kitchen I started to drift off a little. I thought about Greer, 'the nutty werewolf', and the run down house he lived in. I remembered what he had said to me when I met him, that I wasn't like the other werewolves, that I feared the full moon, that I spurned my animal side. It was true. Of course I did. I hated that I was a werewolf. Hardly a day went by when I didn't feel a cold bitterness when I looked at myself in the mirror.

Suddenly I felt someone's warm hand slide gently across my shoulders in a gesture of comfort. My first thought was that it was Sirius.

"What the hell are you doing?" I said sitting up and turning around.

Of course it wasn't Sirius, but Tonks.

"Sorry, you just looked in need of comforting," she said.

I looked at Sirius who was buttering some toast and looking smug.

"No, er, I thought you were Sirius," I explained and Tonks laughed. "When did you arrive? I didn't here you come in."

"I know, I managed to come through the front door walk the entire length of the hallway and come down the stairs without tripping or knocking something over," Tonks said without a trace of sarcasm, "my stealth and tracking teacher would have died of shock if he saw me."

"I used to be clumsy," I said in an offhand way. "At dinner, I used to knock my goblet into my food every time a fellow student asked me a question. Do you remember Sirius?"

"Yeah, but you were home-schooled. Home-schooled kids are always weird."

"Hold on, are you insinuating that I am clumsy?" Tonks said in mock accusation. In an attempt to appear aloof Tonks leant on the stove and put one hand her her hip, but a basic fact about life is that stoves are hot. Tonks withdrew her hand and screamed and in her shock knocked the cauldron full of soup onto the floor earning another scream. I sprung from my chair, a tidal wave of soup heading in my direction.

"Oh Mother of Merlin!" Tonks cried while Sirius yelled at her with his mouth full of toast.

"Bloody Hell Tonks! Molly's going to kill me! She gave me _one_ job: stir the soup!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tonks moaned crouching down and waving her hands at the soup as it spread across the floor, perhaps hoping that she could magic it back into the cauldron just by waving at it. "I'm never going to be able to magic all that soup back in without mixing dust into it."

I took my wand out of the loop on my belt and crouched down next to her.

"It just takes concentration," I advised quietly, and with a few charms I reversed her accident.

"Oh, please come and live with me!" Tonks said and I swallowed, "for years I've had to drink tea with bits of carpet in because I can't do that spell properly!" While I imagined what life would be like if I took up Tonks's offer, Sirius rushed towards the stove then, guarding the cauldron like a child, he shooed Tonks away.

"I'm sorry Sirius," she insisted.

"Don't worry about it Tonks," I said before Sirius had a chance to say anything.

"Oh Merlin, I'm such an ape. I'm like a shaved ape."

I couldn't help but let out a snort of laugher at Tonks's strange description of herself.

"I assure you, you are not, Tonks," I said earnestly.

"I am. I wish I was graceful. Women are supposed to be graceful."

"You are graceful. Just in other ways."

"Yeah like how?"

"Er..."

"See! You can't think of anything! You were just saying that."

Tonks and I exchanged giggles while Sirius rolled his eyes and behind Tonks's back pretended to vomit into the soup. Tonks noticed the direction of my gaze and quickly turned around to see what Sirius was doing. Sirius casually stirred the soup and feigned innocence while I took advantage of being out of Tonks's sight to give a two fingered salute to Sirius. When Tonks turned back around I had to pretend to be scratching my ear.

"Tonks would you like some tea?" I said changing the subject.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, so I flicked my wand, which was still in my hand, towards the kettle.

"Actually, I was hoping to talk to you..." Tonks said cryptically. Sirius's looked on with peaked interest and I felt suddenly nervous.

"Oh, er, what about?" I asked trying to appear casual.

"Nothing serious," Tonks said, glancing at Sirius. Then she tucked a strand of her hair (blonde today) behind her ear and licked her lips in a obviously flirty way – which actually was a bit out of character for Tonks. Nevertheless, it still had the expected effect on me. Sirius seemed to pick up on Tonks's meaning.

"You know what, I've not seen Kreacher for half and hour, I'd better go check he's not setting my bed on fire," Sirius said putting a lid on the cauldron of soup and walking towards the stairs. "See you at the meeting," he added to me with a wink. Once he was gone I turned to Tonks and licked my lips. What was she about to say? Was she going to ask me about the elephant in the room, namely my all-consuming longing for her? I began to rehearse what I would say if that were the case. After two or three minutes I was starting to panic as the only response I could come up with involved a lot of kissing, and with any luck, extended periods tangled in bedsheets.

"So," said Tonks happily. "Molly agreed to do a cake."

"What?" I asked utterly bemused.

"For Sirius," said Tonks, "his birthday, you know?"

"Oh," I mumbled still puzzled, then I laughed. Tonks had used Sirius' belief that there was something going on between us to get him out of the room. Very ingenious.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Tonks.

"Oh, nothing, it thought...nevermind. Anyway, Sirius's birthday..."

"Yes. Molly said she'd make a cake, and I thought we should hold a fake Order meeting. We'll just invite our friends – so everyone except Snape – and then start it like a regular Order meeting, but then start singing happy birthday."

"Sounds wonderful. He'll hate it –" Tonks frowned, so I quickly added: "in a good way."

"Right, that makes total sense," she said sarcastically. "I don't know what to get him as a present."

"Just get him what I'm getting him," I suggested.

"Which is?"

"A punch in the arm."

Tonks laughed again.

"Seriously though?"

"Oh I don't know. He doesn't want much. I think a cake and the party would be enough. I can't really afford to get him anything anyway."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Tonks said looking down at her nails which were painted sky blue. She looked back at me and let her eyes change to gold. By this point, I had realised she sometimes morphed them to match mine on purpose. I smiled back to let her know I appreciated the gesture. Tonks bit her lip sheepishly and changed her eyes again, this time to their natural bluey-green. Then, in absolute silence, Tonks placed her hand on my shoulder. She gently ran her fingers along my collar bone, stopping when she reached my neck. She glanced at my mouth and stood on her tiptoes and I realised she had fooled me as well.

"Wait," I breathed, "what are you doing?"

Tonks stepped back and blushed.

"Don't...don't you know?" she asked timidly.

I swallowed and said nothing.

"I thought it was obvious," Tonks added clearly feeling embarrassed and exposed. Still I could not think of anything to say. I couldn't even move. I just stood there like an idiot.

"I thought you knew," Tonks continued looking anxiously into my eyes. I watched her thinking. I could see a battle going on in her head. Eventually, Tonks managed to get the words out.

"I...I er, I sort of...have feelings for you."

Like some sort of mentally challenged possum I remained absolutely inanimate. My heart was racing, and my mind was overrun with both joy and fear. I still couldn't think of a damn word to say.

"Do you...feel anything for me?" Tonks asked after an embarrassing length of silence. I had to say something now.

"I, I like you a lot Tonks," I said eventually. Tonks blinked at me a few times.

"Is that it?"

"No," I confessed, like a child confessing his sins.

"Well..." said Tonks growing ever so slightly impatient now, "what else?"

"I am attracted to you. More than that actually."

Tonks hair seemed to tinge pink and she sighed happily.

"Really?"

"Yes," I admitted wholeheartedly, "I have been for quite a while now."

"Well...that's great," said Tonks, not yet able to understand why I seemed so saddened, "we both feel the same...we can...you know..." She trailed off, noticing how I was not smiling.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I don't think it would be wise for us to pursue a romantic relationship," I said carefully.

"You don't think it would be wise?" Her hair wasn't pink anymore and her eyes were narrowed.

"There is too much going on...it's not...not the right time."

"Oh," murmured Tonks. She looked at me, disappointed and confused. Her lips quivered as she prepared to say something. Then -

"ABOMINATION!" we heard Mrs Black shriek from downstairs. Both Tonks and I started with surprise. Just as we recovered we heard another shout, this time from Sirius:

"Hagrid!"

Just a little note: I hope that it is obvious that actually Lupin is completely in love with Tonks. Like head over heals and all that. The thing is though, Lupin is very afraid of the L word and so doesn't even think of it. That's why he never says, not even in his head, that he loves Tonks, he always says he's 'infatuated' or than he 'has a crush on her' or that he 'longs for her' or that he's 'attracted to her' etc etc... basically he'll use any expression he can that doesn't involve using the L word. I know this might make it seem like he doesn't feel as strongly for Tonks as you'd hope - but actually that's sort of what Lupin is trying to do: he's trying to trick himself into thinking he doesn't love her, he just fancies her. I hope though, that it's obvious that he's not fooling anyone. Not even himself.


	58. Seriousness and Severity

Sorry it's taken a while, I was having some plot issues. I had to re-write this chapter about seven times.

I'm really worried about how long this story is...I'm worried you guys will get bored and stop reading. I reckon it's about two thirds of the way through now. There's quite a lot of stuff still to come...his romance with Tonks, the werewolf stuff of book six (very excited about this, a few important characters will be making dramatic come-backs)...then book seven is going to be another miniplot as well...Do you guys still want me to write all that? Or should I end it before the end as it were?

**58 Seriousness and Severity **

Upon hearing Hagrid's name Tonks and I looked at each other and silently agreed that our conversation would have to be postponed. Tonks looked away from me and morphed her hair back to blonde then let it fall across her face as she moved. She seemed to move as though a great weight was pressing down on her, one which she hadn't the will to fight against anymore. I wanted to say something, to assure her that she still meant a great deal to me. But before I could, I heard Hagrid and Sirius at the kitchen door.

Hagrid squeezed through the door and greeted us with his warm smile. Even with Tonks's and my confessed feelings hanging fresh and raw in the air, putting strain on the both of us, I was pleased to see Hagrid again. He had been in Russia attempting to make contact with the giants and extend an offer of friendship on Dumbledore's behalf. When he left in July, the Order understood that we wouldn't be able to contact him while he was on his mission, but we had expected him to be back by September. When he didn't return, three Order members, including Sturgis, went to Russia to investigate. They didn't find Hagrid or the giants, but they didn't find anything to suggest that Hagrid had been killed either. Even so we remained worried. Seeing him again was a tremendous relief.

"Hagrid! It is so good to see you!" I said shaking Hagrid's hand. I couldn't fail to notice the bruises on his face and the cuts and grazes on his hands.

"Good to see ye too Remus," said Hagrid before he turned to Tonks with an intrigued smile. "Now, I think one of you boys should introduce me to yer friend."

"Don't you remember me Hagrid?" Tonks morphed her hair to a sky blue colour and grinned. Perhaps only I could see the effort behind her smile.

"Ah! Nymphadora!" Hagrid cried happily.

"Oh, Hagrid! You can't call her that," said Sirius.

"Yes, Nymphadora prefers to be called Tonks," I added.

"Oh I see. Sorry," said Hagrid. "Last I heard you were going to be an auror."

"That's right, I'm an auror now," said Tonks.

"That's ruddy brilliant, I always knew you'd do well. I guess you must be a member of the Order now as well eh?"

"Yep, I joined while you were away."

"We have quite a few new members actually," I said.

"Well tha's something." Hagrid pulled out the largest chair at the end of the Black kitchen and slumped into it causing the china to rattle. Then Tonks, Sirius and I bombarded Hagrid with questions, but he wasn't anxious to answer us. A short while later, the rest of the Order began to arrive. Arthur, Molly and Bill first, then Kingsley, Emmeline, Dedaulus, Hestia, and Snape. All of them (with the exception of Snape who as usual remained sullen and silent in the corner of the room) were excited to see Hagrid and demanded information from him just as we had, but Hagrid remained unforthcoming.

"I'll tell you all 'bout it in my report, first it seems you lot got stuff to be telling me!" Hagrid frowned, his eyebrows knitting together and making his face look even hairier than normal. "Only t'other day I found out young Harry was attacked by ruddy Dementors! Dementors! You lot were supposed to be protecting him!"

None of us said anything for a few moments. It seemed Hagrid had said just the right thing to make every one of us feel ashamed.

"Dung, the little scumbag, wasn't at his post," Sirius told Hagrid.

"Do yeh know if it were You-Know-Who that did it?" Hagrid asked.

"Dumbledore isn't sure," Sirius replied. "It could have been of course: with what Voldemort-" Hagrid winced at the name. The rest of us were getting used to hearing it, as it was common practice for Order members not to honour Voldemort's wishes by being too afraid to say his name, but Hagrid it seemed was still uncomfortable with the sound of it.

"Er, sorry," said Sirius. "Anyway, yes...he can offer Dementors pleasures that no sane wizard would, so it won't take much for him to get the Dementors doing his bidding. But, it just doesn't really fit with the low profile he's been keeping."

"Low profile? His minions were all about the mountains in Russia," Hagrid said.

"I take it they were there to win the giants over as well?" I asked.

"'o course," replied Hagrid sadly. My heart sank. I should have known by the dissapointed air Hagrid had walked in with that his mission had been unsuccessful.

Hagrid gave a full report during the meeting, which started as soon as Dumbledore arrived. His story was fascinating if disheartening. Apparently Macnair's difficulty recruiting the vampires hadn't put him off and now he was of recruiting giants – with much more success. Dumbledore tried to remain positive: he hoped some of the giants would change their minds now that Hagrid had relayed his message, but I could tell he was worried. He also predicted that the new year would be particularly difficult for the Order – with Voldemort's army gaining strength, it wouldn't be long before he started deploying them. That was certainly what Snape thought. Snape's reports were always depressing but this one was especially so. He spoke of increasing Death Eater numbers and the kind of curses and jinxes we might one day be facing. He also suggested a number of places he thought would be a target for attacks some time in the near future.

"Of course, the Dark Lord still wishes to keep his regeneration quiet until he has more supporters, but I think places like the department of supernatural science at Oxford will be one of his first targets."

I looked up from my notes to face the potions master at the mention of Oxford.

"Hogwarts and the national Wizarding Library he will want to assume control of," Snape continued, "but the department of supernatural science will be among his list of institutions to obliterate. The idea of muggles and magical people co-operating and sharing knowledge is absolutely abhorrent to him."

In my opinion, Snape didn't look especially fond of the idea himself; and when it was suggested that I be the one to try and organise some system of protection for Oxford, given my acquaintance with the university, Snape looked at me with a curled lip as if working for a muggle university was in the same league as working in a brothel. We discussed a few ideas as to how to protect Oxford, and I agreed to contact my old supervisor and head of the department of supernatural science Professor Hawthorne. Then it was time for Moody and I to report on what had occurred in Leeds. I did most of the reporting as Mad-Eye was not especially gifted at public speaking. Even with my mind on the report, I couldn't fail to notice how subdued Tonks was. Normally she had ideas and opinions about everything, being the bright passionate woman she was, but tonight she didn't say a word. She had chosen to sit as far away from me as possible, something which was also unusual, though under the circumstances it was not surprising.

When the meeting ended I tried to speak to her, but with lots of people still in the kitchen it was difficult. I could feel everyone watching me as I tried to explain to Tonks that I was sorry, that I didn't want anything between us to change. I noticed Molly in particular looking at my with hawk-like intensity, and Mad-Eye's magical eye never left me, not even when his other eye was fixed on Hagrid. I suggested to Tonks that we go somewhere else to talk, but she wasn't keen.

"It's alright Remus, honestly," she insisted, even though the shine in her eyes clearly demonstrated that it wasn't alright. After that she seemed pretty anxious to be out of my presence. She didn't stay to sample the soup she had knocked over. Instead she said goodbye with a forced smile and an overly casual "see you around."

Once she was gone I sat down at the table and rubbed my eyebrow as I tried to work things out. I didn't have any of the soup either.

"Strange for Tonks not to stay," Molly said, making sure that I could hear her. "She's normally first in line for my soup."

"I have t'say," Hagrid contributed, "she's not as bouncy as I remember. She used to talk nineteen to the dozen at Hogwarts. Her hair was always so bright you'd need sunglasses, and she nearly always had fireworks or a winged catapult or some other object of mayhem sticking out of her bag. She's a lot quieter now."

"She's not usually, Hagrid," Sirius corrected, making sure just as Molly had done that I could hear him. "I think something must have upset her today – or someone."

Sirius gave me a fierce glare that I tried to ignore. Fortunately Hagrid didn't pick up on Sirius's suggestive remark. I think Molly did, but she didn't say anything. Sirius waited until later that evening, after the Order had left to unleash his fury.

"What the Hell did you say you idiot?" he demanded. "She was close to tears during that meeting! What did you do? I can't believe you've bloody screwed it up again! What is wrong with you!"

Had Sirius not lain on the criticism quite so heavily I might have taken his opinions on board. Instead I told him it was all his fault: had he not forced me to go to her house Tonks never would have said anything, I would never had had to admit how I felt, and things could have carried on just as they were. Then I told him he could go to hell and dissaparated back to my home in Ireland. The old house was pleased to see me I think. I cast a few dusting spells (not a speciality I assure you) and opened a few windows. Then after drowning my sorrows in a bottle of red I fell asleep fully clothed in my old room, the drawing of an augrey looking down disapprovingly at me.

The next day, I apologised to Sirius, but he remained angry. I tried to explain to him why I had declined Tonks, but Sirius didn't regard my argument as valid. He didn't seem to appreciate just how difficult a relationship with a werewolf could be. He kept using his friendship with me as a counterargument: he argued that if someone could happily be friends with a werewolf he didn't see why lovers were out of the question for me. I tried to explain that it was more complicated than that, but he wouldn't listen.

I spent a few days in Oxford trying to persuade Professor Hawthorne that his department was in danger. He wasn't keen to speak to me at first given that just being seen with me, the werewolf, could damage his career, but he wasn't a fool so agreed to meet with me in a muggle pub that J.R. used to frequent. Using the spell Dumbledore had taught me to disguise the topic of our conversation, I told Hawthorne about Voldemort and what we thought his plans might be; and when I suggested that the Order help Hawthorne – and whomever he could get to support him – construct some spells to protect the city, and perhaps post some Order members there as guards, he didn't seem against the idea. I spent the next couple of days in Oxford trying to get the local magical folk on board and drafting up some plans.

When I returned to headquarters, I found Sirius setting fire to furniture and throwing paintings down the stairs, much to his mother's, and Kreacher's, displeasure. I don't know whether it was because of me, or because he was missing Harry, or because he was sick of being stuck in Grimmauld Place, but I decided that Sirius needed a break. I let him and Buckbeak come and stay in Ireland for the weekend. Buckbeak seemed to enjoy having space to stretch his wings more than Sirius at first. I wouldn't let Sirius go near the village or wander around the farm during the day, so Sirius accused me of just moving him from one prison to another. Determined to cheer him up, I let him come to the pub one night disguised as a muggle. No-one seemed to recognise Sirius and after a few drinks he was happily chatting up some Irish girls, which indicated to me that he was feeling better.

He didn't let me forget about Tonks though: he took every opportunity to remind me what an insensitive idiot I had been and how if I didn't get my act together I deserved to be alone. Not that he really needed to say any of this, as it was all I thought about. But I was sure I had done the right thing. I had, hadn't I? A relationship with Tonks would only end in disaster and she was too good a friend to lose. I did worry how long she would be upset with me. She hadn't spoken to me or stopped by Grimmauld Place at all since the night Hagrid returned. Had I lost her anyway?

I had to wait a week before seeing her again. The next Order meeting was a few days before Sirius's birthday, and never has the sound of the umbrella stand falling over and Tonks yelling "Oh Bollocking Hell!" caused such a storm of emotions. I didn't want to wait until she came down to the kitchen to see her so I hurried upstairs to meet her in the hall. I was pleased to see that her hair was short and bubble gum pink, a sure sign of a happy mood. I smiled at the sight of it. I also rather enjoyed the fact that Tonks was wearing a skirt today.

"Ah, hello Remus," Tonks said with an arched eyebrow. I chuckled nervously.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said with an understanding smile. "I'm sorry I've not spoken to you for a while."

"No, don't worry about it," I said stepping closer to her. "I wouldn't have expected different..."

"I just wanted to think, you know?" Tonks shrugged and looked at me with her natural eyes.

"Of course," I said. Suddenly the door of number twelve dematerialised. Tonks and I turned to see Fleur and Bill apparently conjoined at the lips. I raised my eyebrows and gave Tonks a look. She returned my look of amused astonishment. Then laughter escaped the two of us in snorts. Fleur and Bill broke apart and blushed.

"Pardon," Fleur mumbled while Bill cleared his throat and gently directed his girlfriend into number twelve by placing a hand gently on her back.

"Alright Remus?" said Bill cooly, "Tonks."

"Wotcher Bill," said Tonks lightly. "Alright Fleur?" she added to Fleur who grinned at Tonks in a sheepish kind of way. "You know, I don't know if you noticed, but earlier...you had some Weaseley on your face. I think it's gone now."

"Oh, shut up Tonks," Fleur giggled.

Tonks pulled a face and I chuckled. I looked at Bill who was rolling his eyes but at the same time couldn't conceal how happy he was. I looked back at Tonks who was still exchanging sniggers with Fleur. Fleur glanced at me and then I saw her raise her eyebrows at Tonks. Tonks's smile slipped a little and she very subtly shook her head. I don't think she realised I had seen. Fleur looked back at Bill and the two lovebirds sauntered off towards the stone steps that led to the kitchen. For a moment I could see clearly the happiness Tonks and I would never have. Tonks looked at me and I think she was thinking the same thing.

"I hope we can still be friends," I said after a while. Tonks gave me the kind of look Sirius gave me when he thought I was being an idiot.

"I always want to be friends with you, Remus," Tonks said, her velvety voice perfectly suited to being serious. The front door dematerialised again and Tonks and I paused to watch Sturgis (fresh out of Azkaban) and a few other Order members walk in. As they walked passed Tonks tried to continue our conversation in hushed tones.

"I just...I want more," she said making my heart jitter. "You're...well you're just bloody amazing...I don't really understand...I don't really understand why -"

The door had disappeared again. Tonks groaned with frustration. It was Emmeline this time. Tonks gave her a forced smile of greeting.

"Hello, you two. Loving the hair, Tonks," Emmeline said brightly as she entered. "Yours needs a bit of a trim Remus."

I automatically ran my hand through my hair.

"I like it a bit longer, you know," said Tonks casually.

"Really? But it makes the greys more obvious," said Emmeline. I blinked in embarrassment as the two women examined my hair.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically to Emmeline who ignored me.

"Yeah, but when it's short you can't tell that it's kind of curly," explained Tonks. "It's nice."

"Thanks," I said again, this time without the sarcasm.

"Well, toodle pip!" said Emmeline before heading down to the kitchen. Tonks opened her mouth to speak but again she was interrupted. It was Mad-Eye and Kingsley arriving this time. Mrs Black, who had been suspiciously quiet whilst Tonks and I had been talking decided that the clunk-clip clunk-clip of Mad-Eyes gait was the last straw. The curtains Sirius and I had put up to conceal her burst open and she screamed at us.

"Vile! Traitorous scum! Mudbloods! Monsters!"

I sighed and went to pull the curtains shut.

"Do you want to talk upstairs?" I asked once I had silenced Mrs Black. "I don't think anyone will mind if we're late."

"No, no it's okay, we'll talk after," said Tonks just as Sirius appeared in the hallway.

"Oh good, you've shut up the cankerous cow," he said nodding to the now hidden portrait. "The meeting is about to start."

"Yeah, we're just coming," said Tonks turning to me.

I examined Tonks's expression, looking for hints as to what she was feeling. Was she angry with me? Was she still upset?

"Don't look so worried Remus! I'm not going to hex you." Tonks gave a deliciously impish smirk and I gave a half smile.

"I think you should," said Sirius.

"Now, Sirius, where would we be if we hexed each other over every little dispute," said Tonks with mock severity. Sirius grinned and headed downstairs. Tonks and I followed and as we walked she whispered to me.

"If you can remind everyone about -" Tonks didn't complete her sentence, instead she just subtly pointed to Sirius who had just turned the corner at the bottom of the stair case and walked into the kitchen.

I nodded to indicate I knew what Tonks meant.

"I've told most people about the 'emergency meeting'," Tonks waggled her fingers creating air-quotes, "but just remind them."

"Do we have much to sort out, we've not discussed it since..." I added.

"It would be good to talk about it actually," said Tonks, "after the meeting?"

I nodded and Tonks smiled.

"Hurry up you two! We're waiting!" I heard Sirius cry. Tonks sniggered and rolled her eyes. For a moment it felt like everything was back to normal. Tonks was happy again. She even sat between Sirius and I at the meeting, just like normal.

The meeting was shorter than usual that night, only forty minutes. It was mainly for those doing guard duty. Sirius and I tagged along because, well, we had nothing better to do; Hagrid was there mainly so that he could relay news of Harry and his friends to Sirius and I; and Snape had turned up because after Dumbledore and Moody he was the highest ranking Order member. At least, that is how he saw it. Truthfully, Order members weren't ranked; no-one had more authority than anyone else. But Snape was above such ideals of equality. Mostly he just listened, occasionally offering barbed criticism to whomever was making a suggestion.

When the meeting ended, I decided to swallow my pride and ask Snape for the favour I needed. I had to wait a little while. Snape had trapped Mad-Eye in conversation and it looked quite intense so I didn't want to interrupt. Instead I talked to Arthur. The head of the Weasley clan was looking a little tired these days. But what with all the guard duty shifts, political strife at the ministry and the coldness he was still getting from his son Percy it wasn't surprising he looked stressed.

"I'm surprised at Percy," I admitted quietly after Arthur had told me of the icy looks he had received form his son at work. "But I'm sure he will come around eventually. He's clever, I think perhaps he'd just...admired the wrong people."

"Yes, but that's hardly surprising, is it?" Arthur said, looking at me with the strained eyes of a man who blames himself for other people's failings. "Percy admired successful people, rich people, and I'm sure that's because the poor boy's had to live in hand-me-downs for his whole life. When he first started Hogwarts he got teased something terrible. Bill and Charlie, being so good at quidditch never got it that bad, and the twins are still very popular at school. They've never had it like Percy did. Perhaps I should have...been more ambitious-"

"Arthur," I interrupted. It caused me great distress to see such a wonderful, kind, generous man doubting himself, I had to stop him. "It's not your fault. It's a shame there are not more fathers like you."

Arthur gave a bashful chuckle. "You are a kind man Remus. Oh! I meant to tell you something."

I looked up, intrigued.

"I've heard of a job. An old friend of mine is an inventor now – of spells that is – and quite a profitable one. He works for the Charms and Enchantments Company. He's looking for a spell tester, someone to assess the effectiveness of his spells, see how they work in different conditions. Maybe even come up with a few new ones as well."

"I see," I said.

"Only if you are interested," Arthur added in response to my non-committal tone.

I smiled; I was interested. Although a spell tester was not nearly as interesting as it sounded, and wasn't really a particularly challenging job for me, it was better than no job at all and one that Delores Umbridge's werewolf restriction laws couldn't prevent me from doing. Whether Arthur's friend would want to hire a werewolf was another matter, but at least he wasn't legally obliged not to. I asked Arthur to give me his friend's address. While he wrote it down I remembered Tonks's request to remind everyone about Sirius's birthday.

"Oh, Arthur?" I said very quietly.

Arthur looked at me over the top of his spectacles.

"Are you still coming on Friday?" I said.

"Friday? What's happening on Friday?" Arthur asked bemused. I realised Tonks had been impressively astute in advising me to remind everyone about our plan. Before I said anything though, Arthur remembered.

"Oh! Of course, the 'emergency meeting'," he said glancing at Sirius who was deep in conversation with Hagrid. "Yes I'm looking forward to it. Do you think he'll be pleased?"

"I hope so. He's been, shall we say, a bit under the weather lately. I think he'll appreciate the gesture."

Arthur nodded and handed me the address.

"I better be getting back. I haven't seen Molly all day; I stayed late at work then came straight here."

I felt a warmth in my chest upon seeing how truly Arthur missed speaking with his wife, even after just one day.

"Alright. Give her my best."

Arthur stood up and I noticed a few others were as well, including Snape. Some Order members remained seated though: Sirius was still talking to Hagrid and Tonks had stayed behind to talk to me, though she was currently talking to Moody, Bill and Fleur about her upcoming visit to Azkaban. (She was going to interview a prisoner and was quite nervous about it and Moody, who had been to Azkban many times in the past, was offering her some advice which Tonks didn't seem to appreciate.

"Don't breathe through my nose?" I heard her say. "Mad-Eye, I'm not worried about the smell I'm worried about the freaking dementors!")

I would have preferred to ask Snape for the favour I needed when everyone else was gone, but as he was already wearing his cloak and preparing to leave I didn't have much choice. During the collective scraping of chairs and putting on of coats, I shuffled to the fireplace. I loitered there hoping to stop Snape before he left. Kingsley left through the fireplace first, then Arthur and then it was Snape's turn.

"Severus," I said. It came out as a hiss, almost like I was choking. I hadn't intended to sound so unmannerly. I guess the combination of reluctance and embarrassment had had some sort of restraining effect of my vocal chords. Snape stopped at the hearth and I saw his lip curl before he slowly turned to face me. I gave a weak smile, which did nothing but intensify Snape's scowl, so I quickly dropped it.

"Can I have a word?" I asked quietly.

"I'm afraid not Lupin, I have to get back to the school. Some of us still have jobs you see," Snape said. I attempted one of Sirius's trademark sarcastic smiles, but I don't think I quite pulled it off. Snape looked at me as if I was having some sort of seizure: puzzled, but at the same time rather pleased.

"It will only take a minute," I said.

"Fine," Snape said not moving an inch. I glanced at the room still full of people wondering how to do this delicately.

"Can we go upstairs?" I suggested.

"Sorry, Lupin, you're not my type," Snape mocked and I rolled my eyes.

"Right," I said forcing myself not to be embarrassed. "As you well know, I am a terrible potion maker. But I, er, I'm finding myself in need of wolfsbane."

Snape's black eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into such a sinister smile I thought for a second I was looking at Leohnard in the German forrest. I swallowed and tried not to think about the vampire.

"The depths of your wretchedness a truly disgusting," Snape said.

"That may be so," I shrugged feeling somewhat impatient. "But I need to make contact with the other werewolves and I'm not comfortable doing that unmedicated. I thought perhaps you would help...I can pay you for the labour."

"Dumbledore has not asked me to join the Order to grant favours for its members, Lupin," Snape hissed. "You'll just have to learn to control yourself."

I clenched my teeth and glanced at Sirius. He was looking in my direction. Clearly he'd worked out what Snape and I were talking about. He realised that the conversation wasn't going well and gave me an 'I told you so' look.

"It would mean a lot to me Severus," I added as Snape took some floo powder from above the fireplace. I hated how desperate I sounded, but Snape probably loved it, and getting him in a good mood even if it was at the expense of my dignity would probably help my cause. "Please."

Snape stopped again and turned back to look at me with a sadistic glee in his eyes. The Order members still left had quietened their conversations and were watching us now.

"I've said no Lupin. I'm not going to waste my valuable time catering to your pathetic needs," Snape said unable to conceal his twisted smile. There was something disturbing about the obvious pleasure he got from being in a position of power over someone.

"Come on, you bastard, we are on the same side!" Sirius suddenly shouted out.

"No-one asked for your opinion Black!" Snape spat.

"It's alright Sirius," I said, "it doesn't matter."

"It does though!" argued Sirius. "He is supposed to be one if us! How can we trust you to fight by our side when you don't ever co-operate. There is more to being part of the Order than just doing what Dumbledore tells you!"

"Like what? Hiding in headquarters and drinking yourself into an early grave?" retaliated Snape, practically shaking with venom.

"Oh, Sirius drinks a lot, wow, that's new. Very witty Snivellus," hissed Sirius sarcastically.

"I don't make any effort to make a joke of you Black," said Snape looking bizarrely proud of himself, "you do that all by yourself."

Sirius's usually handsome face contorted into a fearsome scowl and he draw his wand. He flicked a curse at Snape too fast for anyone to stop him. Snape was taken by surprise but managed to deflect the curse just in time. It ricocheted towards me but I also managed to deflect it in time. It crashed into the large black saucepan sitting on the stove turning it into a giant purple slug.

"Eugh!" cried Fleur who was closest to the vile slimy creature. She jumped from her chair and away from the slug. Snape meanwhile whipped his wand in Sirius's direction. Bolts of lightning headed towards my friend, but Moody stepped in before they could hit Sirius. With a stamp of his walking stick Moody vanished the lightning.

"Enough! When will you two start acting your age?"

"Get out of my house!" Sirius yelled at Snape, his face still livid. "The meeting is over. No-one here wants to endure your company any longer than they have to, so go home." I turned to Snape and although I could hardly believe it, I thought saw hurt in the dark shadows under his sunken eyes. He was never going to say yes now.

"I just need one month," I whispered. Snape's black eyes rested on my yellow ones for a few minutes, then they glanced at the looks of hatred he was receiving from everyone else in the room. I knew he was going to say no. He had no desire to help me whatsoever. But to my utter astonishment he said, "one month." I blinked in surprise.

"It wont be this month, it's already too late, you have to start taking it as soon as the moon wanes. I'll make some for January."

With that Snape left, sweeping his cloak much less dramatically than when he arrived, his self-importance having been diminished by Sirius's taunting, leaving us all speechless with shock. It was a good few minutes before people began to talk again. When they did it was mostly to say goodbye to each other. Bill and Fleur left first, with their arms wrapped around each other. Moody left after transfiguring the slug back into a saucepan and giving Sirius a clip round the ear that knocked the breath out of him. Then it was Hagrid's turn to go home.

"Give my best to Harry," Sirius said as Hagrid prepared to leave, "but be subtle."

"O' course Sirius! What do yeh take me for?" Hagrid retorted.

"Just being careful..." Sirius mumbled.

"And for the record, I understand yer frustration with that Snape. Is he always like tha'?"

"Every bloody time. I mean, I sometimes wonder if he is really on our side at all. I'd love to know why Dumbledore insists that we can trust him."

"There will be a reason he hasn't told us," I offered.

"Perhaps Snape wants it to be a secret," Tonks offered. "I can't believe he agreed to make the potion for you," she added with a puzzled look.

"I don't understand it either," I said. "There must be a glimmer of a decent person in there somewhere."

"No," insisted Sirius, "there'll be something in it for him. You better check he's not slipping poison into that wolfsbane."

Once Hagrid had left for Hogwarts, Tonks, Sirius and I talked in the kitchen for a while. Sirius thankfully didn't mention the complicated situation between Tonks and I, although I could tell he was thinking about it. Instead he invited Tonks to stay for a drink, and with the winter weather growing more severe he suggested we have it in the drawing room which, despite being horrifically ugly, was quite a bit warmer than the kitchen. Tonks agreed to stay but on the condition that she could talk to me first. Sirius nodded and after giving me a warning glare he left me to my fate.

I turned to Tonks. I felt the thrill I always felt when I was alone with her, but I tried to ignore it. Tonks smiled as if she knew what I was thinking. I grinned too and looked sheepishly at the floor. Tonks walked towards me. She reached out and ran her hand along my arm in the manner of someone who was preparing to embrace me. I sighed and gently moved away from her. Tonks gave me a penetrating look.

"About the not the right time thing," she said calmly, "when would be the right time? If a war breaks out, that definitely won't be the right time. I don't think we should wait."

I took a deep breath. "It's not really because of that."

Tonks looked at me and her confidence slipped a little.

"Look, it's not because I don't like you, you know that's not why," I said keeping close to her. "It's because of what I am."

Tonks frowned and glanced away from me. She spent a while looking at the empty tea cups that Order had left on the table after the meeting. Then she turned back to me, her confidence and stubbornness back with a vengeance.

"I have thought about this you know," she said, "I've known for a long time that you are a werewolf."

"Even so, you don't know what it is like."

Tonks opened her mouth to argue, but I wouldn't let her.

"You don't know how dangerous it is," I insisted. "If I don't take wolfsbane, I have absolutely no control. I would kill anyone that got close to me."

Tonks closed her mouth and silently conceded my point.

"But you are so careful," she said.

"It is still dangerous," I told her. "And even aside from the danger, you know how most of the wizarding world treat people like me. If you associate yourself with me, you will be also be a victim of that prejudice and persecution. Besides I am far too old for you."

Tonks paused and bit her lip. "I don't really care about any of that stuff. I get enough stick for being a metamorphmagus as it is."

"I'm sorry Tonks. I just think you deserve better."

"That's very sweet, but I really don't think love is about desert. I don't care what I deserve...I want you."

The restraint it took not to kiss her. "You might say you don't care now, but believe me you will."

"Well if it does start to bother me I can just dump you can't I?" Tonks said with a smirk.

"Oh right, that's really incentive for me go out with you."

"Ah so that's it!" Tonks exclaimed, her tone still jovial. "You are just afraid of being rejected."

"No. Please take this seriously. You can't appreciate how difficult it would be. You would never be happy with me."

"Surely I should be the one who judges what will and will not make me happy. Can we not just try it and see?" She gave me a hopeful glance, perhaps thinking I would bend.

"Tonks, I've said no," I said finally. Normally, that tone was enough to silence any conversation. But not with Tonks.

"What and your word goes does it?" she argued, the beginnings of anger flaring in her voice.

"It is much better for us just to remain friends."

"But I don't want to be just friends..." she hissed at me through gritted teeth.

"I'm not going to change my mind about this, Tonks."

Tonks glowered at me. Her hair changed from pink to a strange peachy colour that didn't suit her at all. I don't think it was all that pleasant feeling either because it made her eyes turn glassy and her hands ball into fists. Closing her eyes with concentration, she morphed it back to pink.

"Fine! I'm going home," she announced.

"I thought you were going to stay for a drink?"

"I don't want to now!" she spat at me. She grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair where she had left it and walked towards the fireplace. She tripped on a chair leg as she walked and I heard her shin smack painfully against the chair. She swore and her cheeks turned pink as she rubbed her injured leg.

"Are you alright?" I asked gently.

"I'm fine!"

I backed away.

"Oh shit, we have to sort of Sirius's fecking birthday..." Tonks then said in a disheartened mumble.

"Don't worry about that," I said trying to be kind, "I can sort that out."

"No, I want to help," Tonks said. "I'll talk to you about it tomorrow – I just want to go home."

"I'm sorry Tonks," I said again.

Tonks ignored me and walked to the fireplace. She threw some floo powder in it, just like Snape had done earlier. Then she stepped into the green flames and looked at me.

"I really hope we can carry on as we were," I said hopefully.

Tonks looked at me coldly, then said "flat 16, Kingston House" and disappeared in a roar of green flames.

NB...I changed the chapter a little because it didn't feel right...

Oh and a weird thing happened this evening...I got a message from Professor Trelawney...Yes, the divination teacher. She said she had a prediction for me. She said "the thing the readers of Seven Years have been waiting for for so many chapters now will happen in chapter 59"...I wonder what that could mean...

Oh and a note: Read Tonks carefully...what she is actually thinking and feeling is very complicated and Remus doesn't really have a clue. She doesn't mean everything she says.


	59. The Price of Love

**Thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing! It really means a lot to me :) I've been looking back on some of the older chapters and it really is shocking how much they reflect what was going on in my life when I wrote them. **

**Anyway...I have some serious apologising to do...**

**I know Trelawney predicted some long-awaited yumminess...but sadly she was wrong as she often is. I had planned for it to happen in this chapter...but the chapter was getting too long and there was stuff I needed to put in...**

**I'm really really sorry! *cries with shame* I _promise_, it WILL happen in the next chapter. **

**To prove it...here is a sneak peek: **

**I felt her hand gently, hesitantly, touch my waist. I couldn't look down to check if she had done that by accident, because I couldn't seem to look away from her eyes. They were staring right at me, as if she was trying to read my mind. She stood on her tiptoes, and pushed my too-long hair out of my face with her free hand. Then she leant towards me. I felt suddenly very hot, but I was shivering. She was so close now that I could feel her breath on my lips, the feathery feeling of it so agonisingly tantalising. **

** "N-no," I heard myself mumble.**

**59 The Price of Love**

Things remained uneasy between Tonks and I. When she came over after work the next day to talk about Sirius's surprise birthday party, although she was careful not to mention our fight, she was irritable and argumentative. She picked fights with me over whether or not we should make paper chains (I thought they were unnecessary, and I think she did too really, but she insisted that we 'needed them') and what colour the balloons should be. I figured she just needed time to get used to the idea that nothing was going to happen between us, so I tried to be patient. It was difficult at times because Tonks can be just as irritating as Sirius when she wants to be; and just like Sirius she had a strange knack of stripping away the barriers I built up to keep my feelings secret, that helped me stay calm and rational. I was nothing but myself with her, which was a terrifying thing, especially when I was angry. I just let my thoughts spill out of my mouth, without any hesitation or censoring. No-one else had ever been able to make me do that. I told her I thought she was being childish and annoying, which is not normally something I would say, normally I would have kept thoughts like that to myself. Tonks didn't take it very well: she threw a muffin at me.

Despite the bickering, we did manage to get everything prepared for Sirius's birthday. We enchanted the food (a big cauldron of beef bourguignon and some cakes) and decorations so that they would appear once the Order started singing happy birthday at the pretend meeting we were going to have. All that was left was to tell Sirius about the emergency meeting. To make it look convincing we had planned not to tell him until the afternoon of his birthday. Tonks had instructed me to act as casually as possible throughout the morning, and to try and make it seem like I hadn't really thought about his birthday. I wasn't allowed to pretend I had forgotten, because that would be unrealistic and Sirius would see straight through it. Instead I was to wish him happy birthday give him a card (and the gift I had got him – yes I did get him one in the end) and then say no more about it. On the 30th of November I carried out my part of the plan to perfection.

I woke before Sirius, which wasn't a common occurrence, but was something that had been happening more and more since Sirius started taking a sleeping potion before he went to bed. I washed and dressed and walked down to number twelve's library to do a bit of work before having breakfast. As well as working on the plans for protecting Oxford, I had also decided to go for the spell-testing job Arthur had suggested to me. Being a werewolf, my covering letters had to be particularly carefully crafted, even for jobs I was over-qualified for. When I did wonder down to the kitchen for breakfast, it was already half ten. I found Kreacher lurking by the fireplace, fondling the Black family crest embossed on the coal scuttle with almost erotic intensity. He jumped when I entered the kitchen and immediately began muttering things about beasts, monsters and half-breeds.

"Do you know if Sirius awake Kreacher?" I asked, trying to be polite but authoritative at the same time. Kreacher just blew a raspberry at me. "Has he asked for breakfast?" Kreacher glared at me and mumbled something about me being a 'smelly animal' and proceeded to hug the coal scuttle like it was a long lost love. I decided to leave him be.

I made some toast and boiled some eggs, then took the breakfast, along with Sirius's present, upstairs with a few levitating charms. I knocked on Sirius's bedroom door and after hearing a dull groan, stepped inside. I opened the curtains with a spell and light illuminated the sleepy heap that was Sirius. He moaned loudly and pulled back the duvet to squint at me. He peered at the breakfast I had brought, and after a few minutes decided that boiled egg, toast and coffee was just about worth waking up for. He heaved himself upright and rubbed his eyes. I directed the breakfast plates and coffee to the bed and left them hovering at a reasonable distance from Sirius, then sat down on the bed. Sirius grabbed a mug of coffee, took a large gulp then seized a plate. He looked at me and smirked.

"Thanks wifey," he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't push your luck," I said as Sirius began demolishing his breakfast, "this is just because it's your birthday. Here I got you something."

I threw the card and present at him. They hit the fraying red nightshirt that covered his chest and fell into his lap.

"Cheers," said Sirius, his mouth full of toast. He picked up the card first. It was a postcard of the river near where I lived in Ireland. We, that is the marauders, had discovered the river one full moon, and Sirius had told me when we fought the ghosts of his family when we broke into number twelve, that he 'felt like he owned the world that night'. I hadn't forgotten. Sirius smiled fondly at the picture. Then he unwrapped the small gift. It was a small owl, carved out of marble, that when held hand a relaxing effect on its owner. It was just a gesture really, being broke as I was, but I thought Sirius might find it useful. He thanked me and got on with his breakfast. I felt a twinge of pride as it was quite evident Sirius had no idea about the surprise party we had planned.

"Are you sleeping better then?" I asked conversationally. "Does the sleeping potion help?"

"It helps me sleep, but I still feel awful when I wake up," Sirius explained. "I'm just so bored. I want to be out there doing stuff, investigating, like you are the rest of the Order."

"You have been a help though," I said trying to be positive. "Those defensive spells you came up with are a thing of genius."

"Of course, did you expect any different?" Sirius cocked his eyebrows arrogantly and I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe you could come to Oxford with me for a few days," I suggested. I drank some of my coffee and took a bite of toast while Sirius thought about it.

"A convict in a densely populated town like Oxford? I'd be spotted the first day," he said forlornly.

"You'd have to be a dog most of the time," I admitted. "But there aren't that many wizards in Oxford, at least not as many as London, and I don't think Voldemort is going to attack this week, so there won't be many Death Eaters there – at least I hope not – so there won't be many people there who know about your disguise."

Sirius didn't seem overwhelmed by the idea.

"You don't know there wont be Death Eaters there," he said with a droop in his shoulders. "Half the wizards that live there now could be Death Eaters for all you know. Besides what would I do? You're there as an envoy, I can't help you with that. Convicts don't tend to make the best spokespeople. I appreciate the gesture Remus, but I don't think it's really a good idea. Merlin – now, I'm being the careful one! The world's gone crazy."

I smirked, but I wasn't happy. Sirius was wasted trapped in Grimmauld place. How he hadn't gone completely mad was anyone's guess. Though I suppose with his inability to sleep without a potion and his violent mood swings he wasn't exactly sane.

After breakfast, I returned to the library to work and Sirius worked on some more spells. He was mildly puzzled as to why none of the Order had sent him a birthday card, but that's all it was: mild puzzlement. He was disappointed not to get a letter from Harry, but as I pointed out Harry had been unable to write ever since he found out Umbridge was intercepting his mail. It was just too dangerous. I suggested that he invite Harry and his friends to stay at Grimmauld place over Christmas. Number Twelve wasn't the ideal setting for the festive period, but I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind. How we would get the invitation to him was another matter. We would have to develop some kind of code.

At about four o' clock I got a message from Tonks. She had sent it using the little owl she often borrowed from work. He was a smart little owl called Peck and always seemed to know how to deliver a message discreetly. He had flown to the library window and caught my attention by quietly tapping on the glass. I let him in and after I had given him a bit of biscuit, he flew straight back to Tonks's flat. The message Tonks had sent me said:

"Everybody is ready. Half an hour till we get there. Dumbledore cannot come."

I decided to use Tonks's letter as a convincer when I told Sirius about the emergency meeting. I enchanted the note so that Tonks's letters shuffled themselves into a knew order, then I changed a few y's to g's added a few letters, took some away, until the letter read:

"Dumbledore's called emergency meeting. Threat on tower bridge. Half an hour."

Then I hurried downstairs, practicing my speech as I went, and found Sirius in the drawing room shooting curses at an old suit of armour he had borrowed from Hogwarts. Sirius had managed to hit the armour with his latest invented curse: one which caused the target to grow a very long moustache which then looped through the target's legs and tied him up in a weird little bundle so that the target's face was trapped between his knees. Bizarre, but effective.

"Sirius, something's happened. Dumbledore's called for an emergency meeting here in half an hour," I said seriously.

"What?" exclaimed Sirius, "what's happened? Is everyone alright?"

"I don't know, I've just got this note from Tonks." I handed him the note. "I think she would have let us know in person if anyone was in life-threatening danger, but still..."

"Sounds serious," said Sirius, and I resisted the urge to grin. Who knew I was such a good lier?

Completely buying my story, Sirius cleared the kitchen for an emergency meeting and the two of us waited for the Order to arrive. Sirius still didn't catch on when only the Order members who were our friends arrived. Kingsley, Emmeline, Sturgis, Arthur and Molly, Bill and Fleur, Mad-Eye, Hestia and of course Tonks. Sirius did think it was strange that Dumbledore wasn't there, but Mad-Eye silenced that qualm with a brisk: "he'll be along in a minute, he wants me to get started".

We all sat at the table with put-on anxious faces and Mad-Eye began the fake meeting.

"You're probably all wondering what the hell happened," he said gruffly, "good news is no-one's dead."

Tonks glanced in my direction and, despite all that had occurred between us, she flashed me a discreet grin and a wink. I felt a glow of warmth at her gesture. I turned to Sirius who was looking at Moody with a puzzled expression. Finally he was beginning to think something amiss was going on.

"It's come to the Order's attention that one of our number has been rather under-appreciated," said Mad-Eye. "He's had a lot to put up with, and despite his bitter temper, he's been quite stoic about it."

Sirius looked directly at me, still utterly befuddled. I couldn't resist a small smirk.

"Remus, I believe you've got a report to give," said Mad-Eye noticing my imminent smile. I stood up, just as I would do any other meeting.

"What the-" began Sirius.

I cleared my throat, and looked serious for a moment, then began to sing: "Happy Birthday to you..."

Soon the rest of our friends joined in and Sirius turned beetroot red. I think it was only the second time I had ever seen him blush.

"What the hell? What are you doing?" he called out as he began to laugh. As Tonks and I had planned it, the kitchen filled with balloons and food and a few small indoor fireworks went off as our chorus of Happy Birthday continued. When we reached "Happy Birthday Dear Sirius..." Molly brought out the large colourful cake she had made. It was decorated with a depiction of Buckbeak in icing, who pranced around merrily between the 36 candles. Sirius looked mortified but at the same time really quite pleased when Molly brought the cake to him. We finished singing, and Molly encouraged Sirius to make a wish and blow out the candles. Sirius rolled his eyes but then blew out all 36 in one puff. We all clapped and cheered.

"You really didn't have to do this," Sirius said shaking his head at us all. "I'm a bit too old for surprise birthday parties."

"Non-sense, you've never too old," Sturgis offered with a twitch of his moustache.

"I think we should have some music," said Bill.

"Mm, good idea." I pulled my wand from my pocket and summoned the record player and some records from upstairs. The chunky apparatus zoomed into the kitchen, followed swiftly by a handful of records. A few of the Order had to duck to avoid being assaulted by the music player. When it got near me with a swish of my wand I halted its progress through the air and gently lowered it onto a nearby side table. Then I had a look at the records my spell had decided to send me. It was an odd mix (Holst's Planets and Metallica among other things) but I didn't expect such a vague spell to do any different. I selected the T-Rex album and placed it gently on the record player. Soon Marc Bolan's genius creations were filling the room.

"Anyone want some beef bourguignon?" Tonks called whilst spooning the stew in the cauldron. "Don't worry, I didn't make it. Remus did. Obviously it wont be as good as your mum's Fleur, but it smells okay."

"Ah, no, it will be good: Remus has a special fondness for red meat, it's the beast in him," Sirius said getting up from his chair and making his way towards the cauldron.

"Thanks for reminding everyone, Padfoot," I said sarcastically. Sirius shrugged as he helped dish out the bourguignon. I glanced at Tonks but she wasn't looking at me, she was smiling at something Fleur was saying. I ran my hands through my hair and helped myself to one of the bottles of mead that had appeared when we sang happy birthday. I watched Sirius receive cards and good wishes from all his friends while he stuffed large forkfuls of bourguignon into his mouth. He seemed happy, so I pulled out a chair and sat down with the mead.

Sirius received a nice backgammon set from Fleur and Bill. He thanked Bill with a handshake and Fleur with a rather lingering kiss on the cheek. Fleur blushed and giggled, unable to resist Sirius's natural charm. Bill didn't look quite so pleased and quickly ushered his girlfriend away from Sirius's corrupting influence. Sirius waved the backgammon set at me.

"Look forward to beating you," he boasted.

"You should be so lucky," I retorted.

Molly and Arthur gave Sirius some homemade jams, and Tonks gave him a pretty little silver harmonica. Sirius glowed with happiness and played a little blues riff to try it out.

"You don't have one already do you?" Tonks asked nervously.

"No, not anymore. I used to have one, a long time ago. Thanks Tonks this is great."

"We'll have to play something together. I'll bring my guitar over some time." Tonks and Sirius gave each other matching grins and the resemblance between them suddenly became even more pronounced. When Tonks's was in her natural form, the form that felt to her like a light breeze, she looked quite like Sirius. She had the same shaped eyes, pale skin and high cheekbones. But tonight she had morphed her hair to rich black so that it matched Sirius's, so they looked more like brother and sister than second cousins.

I made steady progress through two or three bottles of mead while Sirius's birthday party progressed around me. Once the bourguinon was finished, everyone helped themselves to pieces of cake and some of the muffins that Tonks used as projectile weapons. The alcohol was also disappearing fast. It had a cheering effect on us all, and soon everyone was either dancing to T-Rex or laughing at the dismal performance of the dancers. I belonged to the latter group.

Sirius and Tonks were dancing with each other and as I watched them I felt pangs of sinful jealousy. I had no right to feel jealous, I know, but my heart just ached when I saw her smiling and laughing with Sirius. They were both terrible dancers. There weren't many things that I was better at than Sirius, but dancing was certainly one of them. However, neither of them seemed to mind that together they had four left feet, they just giggled in that delightfully puckish way of theirs. The mischievous nature they shared must have been what I loved most about them. Of course that was were the similarities between my affections for Sirius and my affections for Tonks ended. Sirius didn't have perfectly proportioned curves that cried out to be caressed; when he stretched his arms into the air his shirt didn't ride up revealing an elegantly toned abdomen and when he smiled at me I didn't feel an almost overwhelming urge to cover him in kisses. There was no denying it: I wanted to be the one dancing with Tonks.

Apparently Tonks sensed my attentive gaze because it wasn't long before she came over to talk to me.

"T-Rex eh?" she said with a warm smile. I could tell she was being deliberately pleasant. Perhaps she was trying to undo the tensions she'd aggravated yesterday.

"There's nothing wrong with T-Rex," I said conversationally.

"Oh, I agree, don't get me wrong," replied Tonks as she sat on the table in front of me and helped herself to a bottle of mead. "What's your favourite song?"

"Um...Metal Guru maybe," I replied.

"Ah, yes I bet you like mu-ah-ah bit, don't you?"

I smiled with intrigue. "Yes, how did you know?"

"I dunno, I just had a feeling. I like 20th Century Boy. It's kind of...sexy sounding, you know?"

I smiled but made no comment and finished the mead that had been hanging loosely in my hand. Tonks licked her lips while she thought. I looked away from her and instead watched Fleur struggle to appear interested as Arthur described his theory of how escalators worked. I could feel Tonks looking at me the whole time. I heard her sigh so looked back towards her.

"Come on Remus, just enjoy the party," she said quietly, "you don't need to worry about any of those things you are worrying about."

I didn't know what she meant by that. She was smiling, but she didn't look especially happy. Was she trying to say that she had forgiven me? That she was happy being just friends?

"Come and dance with me." A dance as a peace offering perhaps? "I know you secretly love it."

I smiled again and wondered how Tonks knew me so well. When did I let her get that close?

"You're probably right, but no," I said eventually, with genuine disappointment. "I can't."

Tonks licked her lips again and nodded. She jumped down from the table. She put one hand briefly on my shoulder, then left to rescue Fleur from Arthur. Shortly after that Bill came over to tell me all the horrible things the goblins had been saying about Umbridge. Although they didn't take my mind off Tonks completely, Bill's stories certainly were amusing.

I don't remember Sirius's party ending. I drank rather a lot, so my memory of the party is a bit blurred. I remember switching from T-Rex to Jimi Hendrix, playing a few rounds of backgammon where I won a nice pile of galleons from Sirius only to loose it all to Bill, and arguing with Sturgis and Tonks about who had gotten more action in their hey day Professor Sprout or Madame Pomfrey (I can't be certain, but I may have described Professor Sprout as a 'fox' during this conversation). Everything else, as I said, is a blur. Importantly though, Sirius enjoyed himself. I knew this because he woke the next day with a hangover worse than mine and lipstick on his pyjamas. Apparently I wasn't the only Marauder Emmeline fancied at school. After eating the rest of the bourguinon for lunch, I apparated back to Oxford. I spent the next week there, staying in a small inn on the river called The Lazy Kelpie.

I enjoyed being back, even though the weather was terrible: rain that turned to sleet almost every day. Oxford had its Christmas lights up and all the pubs smelt strongly of whiskey and mulled wine. When I wasn't in the Bodleian reading up on protection charms, I was attending dinners at the various Oxford collages to try and win over the local wizards and magic-savvy muggles. It was difficult, as they all seemed to know what I was (they must have read the Daily Prophet article outing me as a werewolf). Consequently they regarded me with caution at best, at worst cold suspicion.

After reporting my limited progress to Dumbledore, I was joined for a couple of nights by Filius Flitwick, who had come home to Oxford for the weekend, and Minerva McGonagall. It was a little strange for me to spend the weekend in the company of my old school teachers, but enjoyable nonetheless. Not least because they brought with them news of Hogwarts. Apparently, Umbridge had taken it upon herself to give every Hogwarts professor an 'inspection', and had assumed authority over all disciplinary measures. She had already put her self-ordained powers to use and banned Harry and the Weasley twins from playing quidditch ever again. McGonagall was irate, so I can only imagine how poor Harry must have felt about the injustice. McGonagall and Flitwick were also a great help when it came to winning over Oxford's magical community as they were both well respected academics. They managed to improve my popularity by telling the wizards and professors about my misadventures at school – much to my embarrassment. This was where I had been going wrong: I had not told the wizards in Oxford enough about myself, I hadn't done enough to remind them I was human, and when you are a werewolf, reminding people you are human is very important.

By the seventh of December I had most of the colleges on board and we had started casting preparatory charms over the city walls and collage doors to protect the people living inside. With everything going well, I returned to London to check on Sirius. When I arrived back at number twelve, I found Sirius asleep in the drawing room with a book about magical communication open on his chest. I cleared my throat. Sirius jerked awake and a second later his wand was pointed at me. I didn't even see him draw it.

"Petrificus totalus!" he cried.

"Oh sh-" I managed before I found myself completely paralysed and falling backwards onto the floor. Sirius walked towards my supine form and towered over me. He examined me for a few seconds, still pointing his wand at my neck, then he called off the spell. I sighed with relief and began to pull myself up, but Sirius jabbed his wand in my direction as a warning.

"Honestly, Sirius, how did I get in if I'm a Death Eater?"

"How do you unlock the Marauder's map?"

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Sirius put his wand back in his pocket with a small smirk then held out a hand to help me up.

"I had to check," he said as I got to my feet. "What are you doing here anyway? I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I just came back to say hello," I said brushing myself down and sitting on the sofa. I gave the back of my head a soothing rub. "How is everything?"

"Oh, dull as ever. I've not seen a single person in two days."

"Where's Kreacher?"

"He doesn't count as a person; and I'm punishing him. He had been collecting his snot in a honey pot, and I found it whilst looking for honey. I almost threw up, it was disgusting. He thought it was hilarious. So I'm punishing him."

"Punishing him how?" I frowned at Sirius.

"He's got to clean up all the Hippogriff muck from my mother's bedroom. He hates going in there. He doesn't approve of my decorative adjustments."

"How you've trashed it and turned it into an indoor forrest you mean?"

"Exactly, he wanted it to be kept as a shrine to Walburga."

"Yes, I can imagine."

"Actually I probably should check on him, it's been a couple of hours. Buckbeack might have killed him." Sirius didn't look at all perturbed by the idea of Kreacher being slaughtered by a hippogriff, in fact he looked rather hopeful. While he went upstairs to assess the health of his house elf, I summoned the book Sirius had been reading. The book zoomed from the other sofa into my lap, but before I could flick through it to see what Sirius was up to I noticed a guitar sitting by the piano. It was Tonks's guitar. I recognised it as I had seen it before in her flat, but even if I hadn't there could be no doubting it was hers as it was covered with weird sisters stickers. I guessed she must have come over to play a duet with Sirius. I got up to examine it more closely. At first glance it seemed just like an ordinary muggle guitar, apart from the moving stickers of course, but on closer inspection I could see that it had some magic in it. There were small dials on the bottom half of it which allowed Tonks to adjust the sound quality, much like a muggle electric guitar would do, but there was no socket to attach the guitar to an amplifier. What's more there were two switches on the guitar handle. I pressed one and watched the guitar magically morph from a standard acoustic guitar into an acoustic bass. I pressed the second switch and it morphed back into its regular form. I licked my lips and pondered. _Prior Incantato_ revealed what spell a wand last cast, I wondered if a similar spell could reveal what a guitar last played.

I took my wand from my pocket and pointed it at the guitar.

"_Prior musica_," I said giving my wand a gentle swish. After a few seconds, the guitar began to play itself. It was much quieter than if someone had been playing it live, sort of like an echo. As well as the guitar strumming, I could also hear the sound of Sirius's harmonica playing the main melody. My spell must have recalled the whole song not just the guitar's part. After a moment or two, the harmonica stopped and I heard Sirius and Tonks's start to sing. They sounded distant, like they were singing in another room, but their mellifluous voices still harmonised wonderfully together. They were singing a folksy version of 'The Price of Love'. I smiled despite regretting that I had not been there to hear it for real. Tonks had such a lovely voice.

The song faded away just as Sirius returned to the drawing room.

"I found him trying to put the dung inside the shower head," said Sirius as he entered. "Who knew house elves were capable of such sinister pranks?"

"The pair of you have more in common than you thought."

Sirius noticed me standing by Tonks's guitar but didn't say anything. He just gave me a look that demonstrated quite clearly that he knew what I was thinking. Rather than beat about the bush, I decided to just come out with the question on my mind.

"How is Tonks?" I asked.

"She's fine," said Sirius nonchalantly. He picked up the book I had left on the sofa and sat down. Then he sighed and rolled his eyes as he realised 'she's fine' wasn't enough information for me.

"She's disappointed," he added, "but she's getting over it."

I ran my fingers down the neck of the guitar while Sirius's eyes bored a hole in my back.

"She's talked to you about it then?" I said.

"A little," said Sirius evasively.

"Can I ask what she said?"

"It's none of your business," said Sirius with a touch of impatience. I nodded and walked away from the guitar. I sat down on the opposite sofa which was still crumpled from when Sirius had been sleeping on it. Sirius and I sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes.

"She's coming over later," he said eventually. "Sturgis is as well. Stay if you like. Say hello."

Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I decided to stay.

Like Sirius, Tonks was a little surprised to see me when she arrived later that evening. I was reading in the usual haunt (the kitchen) and when she walked in and saw me, she let out a little 'oh' of surprise. I looked up apologetically and saw her smile and tuck a lock of her bright pink hair behind her ear.

"Wotcher," she said. "How's Oxford?"

"It's going quite well," I replied, closing my book. "How are things here?"

"Yeah, not too bad," she said, "want some tea?"

Just like at Sirius's party, there was a purposefulness to Tonks's pleasantness, but it was less pronounced this time. She set about filling the kettle while she told Sirius and I about her day at work. The ministry had been talking about giving Avery an early release for good behaviour but Tonks and Kingsley had managed to convince their superiors what a bad idea this was so she was in quite a good mood. Her good mood didn't last for long however, as the kettle Tonks was trying to boil water with had decided to be uncooperative. After ten minutes the water was still ice cold despite the almost red hot stove beneath it. Tonks was normally very even tempered, but today she lost her patience.

"Why wont the bloody thing boil?" she yelled using her wand to shoot red sparks at the kettle.

"Maybe because you are watching it," I suggested lightly.

"Very funny," she said sarcastically. "Seriously, it's been on there for like twenty minutes?"

"The kettle won't boil because like everything else in this wretched house it is impregnated with spite," Sirius said walking towards the stove. He picked up a ladle and gave the kettle an angry whack. Instantly it started to whistle.

"What the hell?" Tonks cried, "how did you do that?"

Sirius shrugged.

"You have to communicate with this house in a language that it understands. Unfortunately, the only language it has ever had lessons in is violence."

Although Sirius's advice for how to communicate with number twelve was amusing, it made my insides twitch with regret, because it was also true, and poor Sirius knew it far too well.

Sirius helped Tonks make four cups of tea. The extra cup was for Sturgis who was due to arrive any minute. In fact I had only just taken my fist sip when Sturgis arrived in the fireplace with a breath of green fire. It had only been a few weeks since he had been let out of Azkaban, so he still had that disturbed look in the back of his eyes, but it was beginning to fade. I think the Order's deep respect for his actions had helped him recover. Sturgis greeted us with a smile, a couple of handshakes and a kiss on Tonks's cheek. Then he gave us a quick update on the Order work he was doing. Stugis had spent his life on the edges of social groups, meaning that he was able to slip into almost any with minimal adjustments to his personality. Hence, he made an excellent spy. He was currently assessing the opinions of the witches and wizards of London who had suffered economically as a result of the Ministry's poor decisions. Sturgis reported that sadly these people believed the propaganda the Death Eaters had begun to spread that muggle-borns stealing jobs from pure-blood wizards were the reason many people were having a tough time at the moment.

After we finished our tea, Sturgis and Sirius decided to raid number twelve's pantry for booze, leaving Tonks and I alone for a bit. At first I was nervous about being alone with her, but my nerves soon passed. She asked me about what I was doing in Oxford, and I found myself eagerly explaining all my ideas to her. I really wanted her opinion. Fortunately, she was happy to give it and I felt comfortable talking to her again.

"It's mainly muggles who live in Oxford, so I thought I might try and use their limited magic to strength the protegean charms I want to cast," I explained.

"Limited magic?" Tonks questioned. "I didn't think muggles had any magic at all."

"Well, it's hard to say for definite because no-one has extensively tested the theory, but it's been suggested that all humans have some magic – if you remember it forms part of my theory of magic being linked to consciousness?"

"Oh yeah, magic is, uh, about thoughts and ideas...which are sort of the nuts and bolts of a human mind," said Tonks, summarising a few chapters of the book I had written years ago. I blushed. It was hard enough for me to accept that another person had actually read that sodding book, let alone someone as brilliant as Tonks, and that she could remember parts of it felt like something out of a dream.

"Mm, er, where was I? Oh yes, so muggles will have a bit of magic in them, and I thought if I could tap into that then it would really increase the power of the spells. I thought I could use their love for the university and the town as the base of the charm. Then, any spell trying to harm the town would have to offset the townspeople's affection for it."

"Sounds great," Tonks said, "in theory."

"Yes..." I agreed. Tonks had put her finger on the glaring problem with my plan: I had no idea how to actually make it work.

"How are you going to harness the muggle's affection for their home? How are you going to use it as a defence? It is a good idea, but I don't see how you can turn their feelings into magic. I know wizards turn feelings into spells all the time – sometimes accidentally, I do that a lot – but we're talking about _muggles_."

"I know, I'm a bit stuck."

Tonks bit her lip thoughtfully. She looked over at the kettle and suddenly he eyes widened and I could almost see a light bulb above her head.

"Ooh, I've had an idea!" she exclaimed, grabbing my wrist with excitement. "I've read about houses and buildings of wizards absorbing magic. It's like when Sirius said this house is impregnated with spite: houses soak up the magic of the people living in them. Maybe you could somehow get the buildings in Oxford to absorb the good feelings of the people living there and then get the buildings to protect the people if they are attacked."

"Hmm, have the buildings use the townspeople's feelings as a kind of energy you mean?"

"Yeah. You could have statues coming to life and spell-resistant walls and everything, all powered by the muggle's desire to protect their town."

"Yes, I think that could work!"

We both looked at each other, felt the thrill that comes with inventing magic, and giggled at how nerdy we were. Our giggles subsided, but we carried on gazing at each other. It was obvious we were both thinking the same thing, namely how great we could be together. But then because we both felt guilty about it, we looked away and pretended it hadn't happened. At least, that is what I did.

Sirius and Sturgis returned with what they had judged to be a kind of port, but which could easily have been fermented Goblin's urine knowing number twelve, and suggested we play some poker. I agreed on the condition that we wouldn't bet real money as I didn't have any.

"But it's no fun otherwise!" Sirius protested.

"Well then I'll have to sit out, I've still not heard anything about that spell-tester job so I really can't afford to gamble away my money."

"Actually, I can't really stay anyway," Tonks said timidly. The rest of us looked at her with varying degrees of disappointment.

"But you've only just got here." I don't know why I was so desperate for her not to leave.

"I know, I'm sorry," she said in response to my whining. "I've got to meet this guy from the Défense Magique in Paris."

"Oh?" Sirius said with intrigue, while my heart gave an uncomfortable shudder.

"It's France's equivalent of our Aurur department. He's still training and has come to London for a few months as a sort of exchange – he wants to go into international security so he's over here to try and improve his English. I'm the only person in the department who speaks French, so I'm showing him around. I said I'd take him out for a drink tonight so..."

"What's his name?"

"Benoît Lebreton. He's nice, bit moody, but I think that's just a defence mechanism. The others tease him 'cos he really doesn't know much English. He's like 'ze sea is agitee quand I across'. It's quite cute really."

My throat felt suddenly very dry.

"Right okay," said Sirius.

"Do you think he's a potential Order member?" asked Sturgis hopefully.

"Maybe," Tonks said with a grin. "I'll have to suss him out a bit."

Not too much, I hoped.

"Next time you come back to London Remus, let me know so that I can make sure I've not got anything planned – we didn't get to talk enough."

"No we didn't," I agreed sadly.

Tonks pulled on her coat and disaparated.

"We can't play poker with just two people, shall we play Canasta instead?"

I only vaguely registered Sturgis's question, my mind was fixed on the empty space Tonks had been standing in. She had left so quickly, almost as if she was desperate to get away so that she could spend time with some handsome young Frenchman.

"Sure," said Sirius somewhere in the distance. "Remus? _Remus_?"

Sirius looked at me with a crease between his eyebrows.

"Yes, alright," I said quietly.

Sirius didn't say anything but the crease didn't go away. He began to deal the cards while Sturgis poured three glasses of the port. I watched Sturgis give his glass a nervous sniff. He grimaced and put the glass down.

"What's it like?" Sirius asked.

"I'm not sure, smells a bit like bubotuber puss," said Sturgis with a comical waggle of his eyebrows.

"Charming," I said sarcastically. Sirius pointed the crease in my direction. I gave him a petulant "what?" look.

"Together?" Sirius said picking up his glass.

"Perhaps you should go first?" I said. Again, the crease.

"We'll drink it when I get back, I've just got to take a wizz." Sturgis left to use the bathroom, and Sirius took the opportunity to reveal what the crease was about.

"What is the matter with you?" he hissed.

"Nothing," I replied a little too defensively.

"Is it because she's going to meet with some guy?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I lied.

"You're sulking."

"I'm not sulking."

"What did you think was going to happen? You thought she would just live a lonely celibate life like you?"

"Of course not. I'm not sulking."

"You can't have it both ways. You rejected her, now you have to live with it."

"I know. It's fine." It wasn't fine. But it was my own fault so I had to just shut up and bear it.

Sturgis returned from the bathroom and Sirius thankfully dropped the subject of my hypocrisy.

"Shall we all sample this plonk then?" he said picking up his glass.

"I think I'll give it a miss," I said eyeing the reddish liquid with suspicion.

"For solidarity's sake Remus, come on," argued Sirius picking up his own glass. I frowned but dutifully picked up the only glass left on the table. I cautiously smelt it. It did have that petrol-like scent of bubotuber puss, with a little stomach fluid mixed in. It definitely didn't smell like port.

"On three?"

"Are you sure this wont kill us?" I asked nervously.

"Nah, it'll be fine," Sirius assured with that fearless bravado he was so good at. Sturgis and I exchanged anxious looks, but on three we poured mouthfuls of the mystery liquid into our mouths.

Once the liquid was in my mouth I experienced two things: first, I realised that it wasn't just a rumour that Sirius had no common sense it was a fact, and second, I felt my tongue spasm and blister like it was on fire and my tonsils try to jump down my throat to escape the poisonous liquid attempting to melt my mouth. I spat whatever the hell it was back into the glass. Stugis spat his out all over the table and Sirius managed to propel his half way across the kitchen.

"Fecking Hell!" I exclaimed my mouth still burning.

"What in the name of Merlin is that?" Sturgis said pointing at the bottle like it was the Grim Reaper.

"It's got a bit of a kick to it hasn't it?" said Sirius happily.

NOTE: I have had to change the dates in the chapter a bit because I forgot about the full moon! Can you believe it? I forgot about the bloody full moon...


	60. Confusion's Masterpiece

**Okay folks, I have a few things to say: **

**Some of you may already know, but this is an ALTERNATE VERSION of chapter 60 because I detested the original version. Most of it is the same, but the Calendar has changed a bit...**

**The January full moon is now the 5th of January (which ties is much better with what Arthur says in the books) and I've brought Tonks and Remus's kiss forward to Christmas Eve (that's the biggest change, so you can skip to the end if you've read the original)**

**I'm so sorry for messing you lovely lovely readers about...but I just had to do this... **

**Lastly: A MASSIVE MASSIVE THANKYOU to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this story (and to those of you that have helped me with a few tricky bits) I really really appreciate it. **

60 Confusion's Masterpiece

December arrived and in Oxford, the race towards Christmas began. The already bustling town, was packed with Christmas shoppers and students enjoying a festive break from their studies. You couldn't walk more than three yards without being offered some mulled wine or Christmas fudge. However, for me and the team of wizarding folk I was working with, there was still a lot of work to do. I had decided to go with Tonk's idea of using animating spells to make statues turn into warriors and walls into magical shields if Oxford was attacked. I told my team about my idea of using the townspeople's positive feelings towards their city as a kind of fuel for these animating spells, so that the behaviour of the buildings when animated would reflect their feelings. A few of them didn't think it would work, others thought it was too ambitious, but there were enough wizards on my side to give it a go. So we spent the first week of December experimenting with charms to try and find a spell that would do what we wanted.

A few days before the full moon, just like in November, I was hit with some particularly nasty pre-transformation symptoms. I found myself yelling at inanimate objects and accidentally setting things on fire when I tried to cast simple spells. What's more, just like when I worked in the Bowman Wright Library, the wizards in Oxford had started to notice the oddities in my appearance that betrayed my lycanthropy: pale skin, sunken eyes, pre-transformation twitches. It was actually a relief to return to London on the 7th, and escape their nervous glances and whispered comments.

The full moon itself was one of the worst I have had in a long time. The transformation was very painful, and once I was transformed I couldn't keep the wold under control. Not even Sirius's company could help me hang on to my own mind. I remember pacing in the corner of Sirius's mother's room, while Sirius in his dog form sat nervously next to Buckbeak. I felt the wolf lurking inside me, raising his hackles and getting ready to pounce. I heard his voice in my head, louder and clearer than it had been in a while.

_Kill the dog! _It said to me. _He's not really a dog anyway. He's human. Disgusting, vile, human. Kill it! Kill it and get out!_

I growled and in anxiety started to bite my own paw. Padfoot barked at me to get me to stop. I looked at him and I could tell from his wide eyes and the way his ears were pricked up that he knew something was wrong. I shuddered and growled again as I struggled to drown out the wolf's voice. But it was too strong, my own consciousness was being suffocated by it. Next,I felt the rush that came with the lust to kill. It made me feel sick but at the same time was so exciting. I begged the wolf to stop, to hide away somewhere deep inside me where it could eat away at me but leave other people safe. But nothing worked. I gave Sirius a warning howl.

_I can't hold it back Padfoot! Get out!_

Then I was pulled into unconsciousness while the wolf seized control of my body.

I woke the next morning on my back on the floor next to Sirius's mother's old bed. I felt tired and sore but most of all I felt terrified. I couldn't stop myself imagining what might have happened to Sirius the previous night. I heaved my aching unclothed body into a sitting position. I took a few gasping breaths and tried to calm down. I looked around the room. The bedroom doors were still shut, but had been extensively scratched and battered. The walls too bore traces of a monster trying desperately to get out. I ran my hand through my hair, and for a moment felt like crying. I was about to call for Sirius when I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Yes?" I croaked.

The door opened and Sirius walked in looking sombre.

"Are you alright?" we both said at the same time.

"I'm fine Remus," Sirius assured me, "Buckbeak and I got out with the emergency Portkey before you even got close. You were more interested in attacking yourself than us."

I did have a large gash on my arm that looked a lot like a bite.

"What about you? You were thrashing around in here, howling and beating at the door, nearly all night."

Rather than answer his question I just put my hands over my face and rambled a desperate apology.

"I'm so sorry Sirius. I'm so sorry to have put you in danger. I don't know why I couldn't control him last night. I'm so sorry."

"Moony, don't worry," assured Sirius with a comforting smile. "You couldn't help it."

"I should have known better...It must be because I've had a lot on my mind this month. They are always worse when I'm, er you know, stressed. You shouldn't have stayed with me last night."

"Moony, relax, it's fine," Sirius ordered looking at me anxiously. "Maybe you should just take it a bit easier this month, okay?"

I gave a single nod and leant against the bed next to me. I sighed deeply and as my anxiety faded away, tiredness began to take its place. A few seconds later and I was falling asleep right there against the ivy covered bed.

"Ah, Remus," Sirius said walking towards me and giving my arm a gentle shake. "You can't sleep in here, Buckbeak needs this room."

I reached one arm up over the bed, grabbed a chunk of the ivy and used it like a rope to pull myself up. Sirius also helped pull me to my feet. Once standing I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead to try and elevate the head-rush. I opened my eyes when I head Sirius snigger. I looked at him, saw where he was looking and frowned.

"Sorry, I don't know where to look," he said.

I rolled my eyes with disapproval and wandlessly summoned my trousers which were lying on the bed a few feet away. Sirius just carried on giggling.

"Kindly stop laughing at my genitals, Sirius."

"I just wanted to check it's not bigger than mine," said Sirius.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Wanker," joked Sirius before leaving me to get dressed.

Just as my pre-transformation symptoms were worse than usual my post-transformation symptoms were as well. I slept most of the first day, and found I couldn't really eat anything. The next day, Sunday, my muscles ached so severely that I was hobbling around the house like an old man. I was due to go back to Oxford on Monday, so I was more than a little irritated that it was taking me so long to recover. As she often did, Tonks came over that evening to say hello. When she arrived I was hunched over a bowl of soup trying in vain to eat it. I wasn't really in the mood to see her, but I greeted her with a smile all the same.

"Oh dear, you don't look very well," she said her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I'm alright, sometimes it takes a few days to recover," I said my voice even more croaky than usual.

"You look very pale." Tonks had walked over to me and was examining my face with medical scrutiny. She bit her lip just as she had done when she rescued me in Germany. She looked very pretty when she was worried.

"She's right Remus, you don't look at all well," said Sirius, who had been drinking some coffee and pondering what to make himself for dinner. "Maybe you shouldn't got back to Oxford tomorrow." "You've got to go back _tomorrow_?" exclaimed Tonks.

"Yes, it's nearly Christmas so we've got lots to do." To try and give the illusion of health I tried to take another spoonful of soup. But the movement sent an angry spasm of pain through my back and I winced involuntarily.

"Even so, perhaps you should take another day off," Tonks suggested sitting down at the kitchen table next to me. I shook my head. Then Tonks put her hand on my forehead.

"You're very hot," she told me. Sirius for reasons known only to him let out a brief burst of laughter. Tonks and I gave him admonishing looks. He shrugged and drank some more of his coffee. Tonks took out her wand and touched it to my forehead.

"Tonks, what are you doing? I'm fine," I protested.

"_Expone temperatio_," she said before I could stop her. I couldn't see them myself, but I was sure

little numbers made of sparkling smoke were coming out of the end of Tonks's wand indicating to her what my temperature was, because a few minutes later she told me quite aggressively that my temperature was 39.2ºC.

"I often have a fever after the full moon," I informed her gently.

"But it's already been a day, and you're obviously in pain," Tonks's argued.

"I'm fine Tonks, really."

"Alright then, put your hands on your head," she ordered, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

"What?"

"If you're fine, put your hands on your head. A healthy person should find it easy."

"I'm not going to put my hands on my head."

"Yeah, because you can't."

"Of course I can."

"Go on then."

Male pride, or something else equally unhelpful, compelled me to raise my arms towards my head. Sadly Tonks was absolutely right. I got about half way there before a thumping pain in my shoulders forced me to tense up and let out a meek little moan.

"You see!" Tonks declared triumphantly.

I noticed Sirius smirking in the background.

"I'll go get you some antipyretic potion. You've got some Sirius?"

"There's some in the pantry," Sirius replied. Tonks darted off towards the pantry while Sirius came and sat at the table with me. He tilted his head in Tonks direction and grinned at me. I rolled my eyes and raised one hand in a gesture of surrender.

"It's cute, she's worried about you," said Sirius.

"I don't want her to worry about me," I said solemnly. Suddenly green flames appeared in the fire place, and Sirius and I were flabbergasted to see the head of Severus Snape sitting amongst the coals.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius demanded. "Has something happened?"

"No, Black, I have brought some wolfsbane for your furry friend," said Snape shooting a nasty glance at me.

"Oh," I said with surprise. "Come in."

Although it was obvious Snape would rather not set foot in Sirius's home, he accepted my invitation and walked out of the fire and into the kitchen. He was carrying a small crate with three large bottles of potion.

"I thought you had changed your mind," I told Snape. "I was expecting you yesterday."

"I was busy yesterday," Snape told me angrily, "and you shouldn't have _expected_ anything. I am under no obligation to help you, wolf."

"Yes, I'm sorry, I've very grateful," I said, patiently ignoring the 'wolf' comment. Snape unceremoniously dumped the wolfsbane on the kitchen table. Tonks returned from the pantry with a small blue bottle of antipyretic and greeted Snape with the same distrustful dislike Sirius had.

"Why are _you_ here?" she said.

"I've brought wolfsbane for Lupin," Snape hissed apparently feeling shame at the very idea of helping me. Tonks eyes widened in surprise, then she turned Sirius and I with a grimace. Just like us, she had no idea what to say in response to Snape's uncharacteristic act of kindness.

"Er, would you like a drink Severus?" I asked politely. Sirius kicked me under the table, and subtly shook his head.

"No, I'd rather not," Snape said coldly.

"Do you want...any money for..." I said awkwardly gesturing towards the wolfsbane.

"No, it's alright, you don't look like you can spare it." Snape shot a disparaging glance at my faded blue jumper with holes in the elbows.

"Well, er, thank you." There were a few seconds of awkward silence, and I felt pressured by my conscience to try and make conversation with Snape. "How are things at Hogwarts?"

Snape looked at me like I was a slug trying to Flamenco dance. Just like Sirius and Tonks, who were shooting incredulous glances in my direction, Snape was unable to comprehend why I had begun this painful small talk.

"They are fine," Snape said regarding my with distrust. "Anyway, I best be leaving," he added to the relief of absolutely everyone. Once he was gone Sirius, Tonks and I let out sniggers like punctured balloons let out air.

"That was as awkward as a Dementor at a christening," said Tonks with a comedic raise of her eyebrows. I laughed again, and Tonks glowed with happiness.

"Do you want to stay for dinner Tonks?" Sirius asked her pleasantly. "I don't know what we're having, leftover cottage pie probably, but you're very welcome."

Tonks didn't seem sure at first, but after a few minutes thinking she smiled.

"Er, yeah okay. I'm going out at nine so I can't stay all evening, but I'll stay for dinner if that's okay.

"Great," beamed Sirius. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the pub with Bill, Fleur and Benoit."

An uncomfortable shiver spread through my body, and I'm not sure it was entirely due to my fever.

"The French auror?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah, I thought he'd get on well with Fleur, seeing as they are both French expats in Britain."

"I will have some of that antipyretic actually, Tonks," I said successfully putting an end to Benoit-themed conversations.

Sirius and Tonks ate the leftover cottage pie while I slurped an antipyretic-wolfsbane cocktail and massaged my aching shoulders. I felt so old. When nine o' clock came around and Tonks was getting ready to leave, I tried to stand up to say goodbye but couldn't quite manage without a moan befitting an eighty-year old.

"Do you want me to ask Hestia to have a look at you?" Tonks had that expression only woman can master that said 'disagree with me if you want to, but you'll only make yourself look stupid'.

"No! Tonks, I'm fine, stop fussing," I snapped.

"Merlin you are grumpy when you're ill," Tonks accused.

"I'm not ill," I argued petulantly. Tonks was standing close to me, and the difference in our heights was suddenly salient. It was oddly pleasant to look at her from this angle.

"Alright alright..." Tonks pointed her palms at the sky in a gesture of defeat. Then she looked at me her eyes sparkling. I licked my lips and gave her a questioning glance. Tonks blushed a little and gave me a small smile.

"What?" I asked quietly. Tonks glanced at Sirius who was magically sending the dirty dishes to sit unwashed for several weeks in the sink.

"Nothing," she said with a gentle shake of her head. "I miss you when you're not here."

She was wearing her natural blue-green eyes today, her hair was white-blonde and boyishly short. She really suited short hair. Not many women do, I don't think, but on Tonks it looked beautiful.

"I miss you too," I found myself admitting.

Once Tonks was gone, guilt started to eat at me. How would things ever be normal between Tonks and I if I kept flirting like that? There was no doubt about it, with Tonks I had gotten myself into a horrific emotional mess. Since Sirius's birthday, I had spent hours agonising over it. I had told Tonks that I couldn't be with her. I had said those words out loud. I had made my bed. But despite knowing I had done the right thing, I couldn't live with it. I felt tortured by my desire for her. I was glad we were on speaking terms again, but every conversation we had was spoilt because I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted to hold her hand while she talked to me. Even though I had been the one who had suggested it, the idea of never being with her was like a poison. Whenever it entered my mind it made me feel sick and angry. I didn't want to be just friends. I wanted more. The dichotomy between what was right and what I wanted was hell to live with.

Unable to bear this emotional chaos any longer, I announced to Sirius that I was going to bed. I hobbled towards the kitchen door, wincing and clutching my back every other step.

"She's right you know, you are worse than usual," Sirius told me.

"If it's not better by tomorrow I'll see a healer."

I had said it just to shut him up, but in the end I did make myself an appointment at the day clinic at St Mungo's. Although, I didn't tell anyone. The healer in the day clinic told me, while I sat shirtless on the little hospital bed, that I had sustained some tissue damage during the transformation (quite common with lycanthropy), which had led to bruising and inflammation as well as a fever.

"These kinds of symptoms are only going to get worse as you get older," she told me, "especially without wolfsbane. I mean, it's not just tissue damage; transformations can lead to blood clots, plural effusions even heart attacks. Particularly in middle aged men."

After that _spectacular_ news she shoved a potion at me and told me to be on my way. The potion did its trick and a few days later I was myself again (not a vast improvement I admit).

My Oxford team and I had worked out a few spells we thought might work, so I spent the rest of that week pretending to be a muggle heating inspector so that I could go around the colleges, libraries and houses and cast spells without muggles thinking I was loopy. It was stressful and the spells were difficult, but one positive aspect was that it made me very tired so that instead of lying awake at night growing increasingly irritated by my inability to fall asleep, I found myself drifting off quite easily. However, images of Tonks locking lips with a Frenchman still featured heavily in my dreams.

It was during one of these less than pleasant dreams when I was woken by Sirius's voice very early on December the nineteenth. My room at the Inn in Oxford was pitch black at night owing to the thick wool curtains, so at first I wasn't sure whether he was actually in the room or not.

"Sirius?" I croaked feeling sleepy and confused. I sat up and summoned my wand. I usually left my wand under my pillow or on the bedside table, so it was never too far away for a wandless summoning charm. I felt the willow fly into my hand. "Lumos," I said and illuminated the room with bluish wand-light. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but his voice carried on calling me, growing more impatient.

"Remus! For Merlin's sake, wake up!"

I suddenly realised that Sirius's voice was coming from the mirror he had given me, the mirror that enabled me to communicate with him while I was away. I glanced quickly at the clock sitting on the chest of drawers. It was just before six in the morning. I felt the hairs on my back stand on end, and my muscles tense. Something must have happened.

"Accio Mirror!" I called. The mirror shot from the desk opposite the bed where I had left it and landed on the mattress next to me. I picked it up and greeted Sirius's pale worried face.

"What's happened?" I asked.

"Arthur has been attacked," replied Sirius straight away. "He was on duty, and was attacked by Voldemort's snake. He's alright. He's in St Mungo's. Harry saw the whole thing-"

"Harry did? What? Was he there?"

"No, no, he saw it in a dream as it happened. He alerted Dumbledore as soon as he'd had it and Dumbledore sent Everard Shrewsbury – you know the old headmaster – to his twin portrait in the ministry. Everard sent some of the unspeakables down to the Hall of Prophecy and there Arthur was. If it weren't for Harry, we wouldn't have known about Arthur till this morning, by which time it would have been too late."

"He saw it in a dream?" This was bizarre, even in the wizarding world. Seers were known to witness events happening far away from themselves in dreams, but as far as I knew Harry wasn't a seer, what's more seers tended to see the future, and it sounded like Harry had witnessed an event happening in the present.

"I know." Sirius looked suddenly years older. I could see strain and stress etched around his eyes. He looked just like a parent I thought. A parent deeply worried about their child. "Harry said that when he had the dream, he saw Arthur being attacked from the point of view of the snake. Like he was the Snake."

Sirius's grey eyes stared up at me through the mirror pleading me for a comforting explanation. I hated to see my friend so obviously anxious, but I had no explanation to give him. I knew no more than he did.

"Then, Harry said when he was talking to Dumbledore in his office he felt an anger that wasn't his own – he said he felt like there was a snake inside him," Sirius continued. "And his scar was hurting again." I took a deep breath. An anger that wasn't his own...

"I don't know what to make of that Sirius," I said honestly. "Did Harry tell Dumbledore about this?"

"Yes, Dumbledore didn't say anything about it."

"Well either that means Harry shouldn't be concerned, or it means Dumbledore didn't want to worry Harry with the truth."

"Obviously it's the latter. Dumbledore has a habit of concealing bad news until the very last minute."

"Do Arthur's children know?" I asked changing the subject.

"Yes, they are all here at headquarters. Harry is as well. Molly's just arrived, so they are having some breakfast."

"I'll come back today. They can mange here without me. I'll let them know I'm leaving and I'll be with you this afternoon."

"Thank you Remus."

When I arrived back in London, Harry and the Weasleys were at St Mungo's visiting Arthur with Tonks and Moody accompanying them. Sirius was in the Garden Room watching the rain beat against the french windows. He hadn't shaved for a few days and looked very tired, but I suppose he had been awake all night.

He told me what he'd heard from Kingsley and Tonks about the previous night. Tonks had been on call, so after Everard sent the unspeakables after Arthur, he ran through the portraits until he found Tonks and told her what had happened. Tonks went straight downstairs, but by the time she got there Arthur had already been transported to St Mungo's. Tonks had to wait for the unspeakables to leave before she could investigate the Hall of Prophecies, and when she finally got in there was nothing there except for a few broken prophecies. The snake had left. It seemed clear that Voldemort had sent his snake to see if the prophecy concerning Harry and himself was guarded. But what bothered Sirius the most was Harry's dream.

Later that afternoon, Molly, her children and Harry returned from St Mungo's along with Moody and Tonks. It was nice to see the kids again, despite the circumstances. They seemed cheerful enough now that we knew Arthur would be alright, apart from Harry who was quiet and noticeably downcast. Molly also sensed something wasn't quite right with him, and wisely suggested he go upstairs and have another nap. While Harry slept, Moody left to see what he could find out about Voldemort's motives, and Molly and her children commandeered the kitchen, relegating Tonks, Sirius and I to our second-favourite hangout: the drawing room. Tonks gave us a report of Arthur's status, then the topic moved back to Harry.

"Moody wondered if Voldemort is possessing him," Tonks said anxiously. She was sitting next to Sirius on the sofa with her legs drawn up underneath her. Sirius's lips thinned at Tonks's suggestion. She herself looked rather frightened by the idea.

"I wondered if he was having prophetic visions, like a seer." Tonks looked at me for confirmation, as if I had some authoritative knowledge of this kind of thing. "But he's not predicting the future so..." she added loosing confidence when I didn't say anything.

"I don't think Harry's being possessed," I said honestly. "It doesn't have the normal signs of a possession – with possessions someone else's mind takes control of your body and you yourself don't have any awareness of what your body is being made to do."

I paused and swallowed the uncomfortable feeling that had got caught in my throat. Full moons felt like possessions. To have what feels like a distinct consciousness force your own to surrender, and take your body from you, is terrifying and humiliating. It is no wonder possessions are magic at its darkest.

"As far as I'm aware, Harry never left his bed, and he was fully aware of what was going on," I continued. "I don't think he's making prophecies either though. It's more like his mind was transported. I think...I think perhaps he is just seeing into Voldemort's mind."

Sirius's mouth remained tightly shut, as if he feared he would be sick if he opened it.

"_Voldemort's_ mind?" questioned Tonks.

"Voldemort must have been controlling the snake -" I began before Sirius cut me of.

"Ah, so Voldemort was possessing the Snake then, not Harry. And Harry just saw what was going on, through Voldemort..."

"Yes, I think, I'm not really sure..."

"Dumbledore did mention to me once he thought there might be a link between Harry's mind and Voldemort's...Ever since..." Sirius tailed off. Even after all these years Sirius still found it difficult to talk about James and Lily's death.

"But if there is a link between Harry's and Voldemort's mind, how long is it going to be before Voldemort takes advantage of that?" asked Tonks, a war-like fire glimmering in the back of her eyes. "There are two ways to go through a door. If Harry can see into Voldemort's mind, then Voldemort can see in Harry's."

"Exactly." This confirmation of Tonks's worry came not from Sirius or I, but from Dumbledore, who had appeared at the drawing room door. The three of us stood up at the same time and turned to look at him.

"We weren't expecting you," said Sirius. I could tell how eager he was to grill Dumbledore for answers, but out of politeness he held back.

"I need to talk to you Sirius," Dumbledore said walking further into the drawing room and looking at Sirius with a grave expression. "As Harry's Godfather, Harry's welfare is your responsibility, so you need to know what it going on."

Sirius's concern for Harry was obvious, but I could also tell that he felt a smidgin of pride that his role as Harry's Godfather was being respected. Tonks and I wondered if we should leave while Dumbledore spoke to Sirius, but Sirius didn't think it was necessary: he knew we cared about Harry just as much, and he would probably tell us what Dumbledore said anyway. It turned out that, like me, Dumbledore was worried that Harry was gleaning parts of Voldemort's psyche, and like Tonks, he was worried Voldemort would soon realise there was a connection between Harry and himself and take advantage of it. Dumbledore was vague as to why the connection was there, but by now Sirius and I were used to Dumbledore being vague. He was very clear about one thing though, which was that he wanted Harry to learn occlumency. Dumbledore wanted to teach Harry the skills to block Voldemort from his mind if he tried to invade it. Occlumency is very difficult magic. I tried to learn it once in the eighties when I first joined the Order, but was never able to really master it. Moody had been my teacher then, so I wondered if Moody would be the one to teach Harry, but apparently Moody couldn't spare the time, whats more it would look far too suspicious for him to be seen in Hogwarts while Umbridge was snooping around. Apparently Dumbledore hadn't secured a teacher for Harry yet, although he had someone in mind (he wouldn't say who). If it came to it he would teach Harry himself, but again for reasons Dumbledore wasn't keen to divulge, he would rather find someone else.

"Occlumency, jeez, this is serious." Tonks commented throwing herself back onto the sofa once Dumbledore had left.

"As if he wasn't under enough pressure," Sirius said, running his hand through his hair which was getting long again. I wanted to stay with them, but it was nearly seven o' clock and I had told Professor Hawthorne in Oxford, that I'd be back before dinner that evening.

"Listen, I've got to go back to Oxford," I said.

"Already?" Tonks moaned.

"What for?" asked Sirius, looking almost as displeased. "It's nearly Christmas, you need to have some time off."

"We've got to test some of my spells to see if they've worked," I explained.

"Can't you go back tomorrow?" suggested Tonks.

"There's quite a few tests to do, and we have to do it when the muggles aren't around so we don't have much time," I explained. "If the tests go well, I should be back in a few days."

"So you'll be here for Christmas?" Tonks wasn't really asking me a question: she was telling me what my plans for Christmas would be.

I smiled, I couldn't help it.

"Yes, I'll be back for Christmas."

I spent the next few days rushing to get everything done in Oxford so that I could return to number twelve. According to Sirius, the atmosphere had vastly improved. Arthur was feeling much better, although his wounds were still resisting magical treatment, and Hermione had arrived. If that wasn't enough to cheer everyone up, Sirius had gone slightly overboard with the Christmas decorations, at least that's what Tonks said when she nicked the magical mirror from Sirius to talk to me. Apparently the house was barely recognisable, and I was really missing out by not being there. When I returned on Christmas eve after a few long days of spell work (the tests revealed that only a few of the charms had taken, and none of them were as strong as I wanted – statues were batting pathetically at hexes like they were trying to shoo away wasps, although this was more than some of the more pessimistic wizards had expected), I was pleased to find Tonks had not been lying. The house looked amazing.

It was like walking into the last stave of A Christmas Carol, just after Scrooge had sent the turkey off to the Cratchet's and joined his nephew for Christmas dinner. Actually no, it wasn't like that. I imagine Scrooge's nephew probably had quite a nice home to begin with, one that was warm and welcoming all year round, and only enhanced at Christmas time; number twelve had never been welcoming, and it took several large fires to keep it warm: it was _transformed_ by the decorations not just enhanced. The walls, ceilings and floors were still faded and grey, a visual metaphor for the dark history of the house, but Sirius had completely hidden them with paper chains, garlands of holly and mistletoe, gold streamers that hung from the chandeliers, and piles of glistening magical snow.

When I congratulated Sirius on the tremendous job he had done decorating the house, he revealed his motives behind the festive transformation. Apparently Sirius didn't want the kids to feel they were missing out by not spending Christmas at Hogwarts. Sirius's Christmases at number twelve were nearly all horrible. His childhood was loveless, and Christmas was no exception. When he was very young Sirius coped because Regulus was there sharing the isolation and oppression with him. But when he got a older, and Regulus started to bend to the pressure from his parents, Sirius couldn't count on his brother's comradeship and found Christmas almost unbearable. Last Christmas I had tried my best to help Sirius forget the past Christmases he had spent at number twelve, but had only limited success. This year Sirius was determined for everyone to have a good time.

From what I saw of the kids when I arrived back, Sirius seemed to be succeeding. When I first walked in I was greeted by the twin grins of Fred and George who were spending their free time developing their prank sweets and indoor fireworks, much to Molly's chagrin; Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were rarely seen apart and seemed much happier than the last time I had seen them, especially Harry. He looked so much like James. The same unmanageable hair, round glasses and Rolling Stones cool. Even Molly seemed quite relaxed considering that her husband was still in hospital. Sirius was keen for me to enlist into his laid back but very merry Christmas plans.

"Are you going to have a few days off now?" he asked me while we had a cup of steaming coffee and admired the gigantic Christmas tree Dung had pilfered for the drawing room. "It is Christmas after all."

"Yes, I am," I replied, "but I need to sort out the full moon. If you remember I was going to spend it with Greer's, uh, 'pack'."

"Oh yeah..." murmured Sirius, with a vague look of recognition on his face.

"The next full moon is the 5h of January, so I've got to get moving quickly."

"You can still take a few days off, you need a break Remus."

"I'm planning to have one. For the next few days, I'm just going to relax."

We spent the afternoon of the 24th talking and playing games, then at about five in the evening Tonks, Kinglsey, Moody and Bill and Fleur came over for a Christmas Eve dinner. Tonks looked lovely as always. Her hair was short, messy and coloured a festive green and she was wearing a Christmas jumper and a short tartan skirt to show of those fantastic legs of hers.

While Bill, Fleur and Kingsley helped Molly and Ginny in the kitchen; Tonks and Moody joined the rest of us in the drawing room, where we nibbled at mince pies and drank a glass or two of mulled wine. Tonks sat with me on the piano stool, the two sofas having been shotgunned by the kids and Sirius. Moody, who feared that if he sat down he'd never be able to get up again, stood by the window a glass of water containing his magical eye in one hand and a mulled wine in the other. From our vantage point by the piano Tonks and I were able to watch the others chatter, laugh and argue. Sirius was sitting next to Harry ande the two of them were talking nineteen to the dozen with matching ear-to-ear grins; Fred and George were having a very heated debate over who was the better Quidditch player, the Chudley Cannon's Joey Jenkins or the Falmouth Falcons's Kevin Broadmoor; and Ron and Hermione were racing beetles along the back of the sofa. While we watched the others, Tonks and I calmly sipped mulled wine and talked. She asked me about Oxford, so I gave her a self-deprecating account of how ineffective my spells had been so far. I found myself telling her everything that had been on my mind the last week or so. It was almost as if I had stored it up just so I could tell her. There was a time when I was content keeping my thoughts and anxieties to myself; but now it didn't feel right unless I could tell Tonks. Tonks laughed in all the right places, and made it clear that her faith in me hadn't diminished. It felt nice to have her support, but it added to the pressure. Of all the Order, she was the one I was most afraid of disappointing.

Christmas Eve Dinner was a veritable feast. Molly and her sou-chefs Ginny, Bill and Fleur (with Kingsley laying the table) had really out done themselves. Some apple and parsnip soup, followed by some of the best salmon I have ever tasted and some little lemon soufflés made by Fleur that even Molly couldn't fault. After dinner, Sirius charmed the dishes to wash themselves and we lazily finished a few bottles of wine (or butterbeer in the children's case). Nothing dramatic or fantastical was going on, but it was nights like that that I most enjoyed. And I think it was the same for everyone else. Sirius looked more relaxed than I had seen him in a long while, Tonks was chatting and giggling at a hundred miles per hour which she only did when she was happy, even Molly who was undoubtedly missing Arthur was smiling and humming along to the music playing on the wireless.

It was nearing midnight and there was a sense of building excitement as the minute hand of the Grandfather clock got closer and closer to Christmas day. Moody was telling an amusing story about how he had been at a Christmas party once in a Santa suit (which was a hilarious image in itself) when he was called out on an urgent mission. He ended up chasing Death Eaters through the Cotswolds still dressed in the red and white suit and floppy hat. If that wasn't ridiculous enough, Moody had forgotten his broom, so when the Death Eaters decided to make a flying getaway Moody had to charm a wheelbarrow to keep up the chase. The image of Moody with his fierce face and glass eye, in a Santa outfit, flying over the English countryside in a wheelbarrow was too much for Tonks. She laughed until she cried and collapsed against my shoulder for support. The sight of her laughing and the feel of her body jiggling against me was too heavenly for me to feel uncomfortable about it, instead I just laughed as well, which of course made her laugh even more.

"Mad Eye you never fail to surprise me," concluded Sirius with a grin before he picked up his wine and took a sip. Thinking what a good idea another glass of wine was, I filled up mine.

"So let's hear about Hogwarts," Moody said. "I hear that Umbridge woman has been setting new school rules..."

At once the table exploded into a chorus of Umbridge-hate; the twins contributing the loudest exclamations. I smiled, and a few other the others chuckled at the raw nature of teenage anger. We engaged in a few minutes of highly enjoyable Umbridge bashing, until Sirius said something which made the twins react rather oddly.

"Ah, so Moony's not the only one who thinks she's a short-sighted biggoted 'bastard woman'," Sirius said. Ginny and Hermione giggled at the idea of their schoolteacher swearing, and I grimaced a little.

"You said that Remus? Merlin what a mouth!" Tonks joked giving me a playful shove. I couldn't help but sneak her an impish grin.

"Hang on, wait a second, _Moony_?" George suddenly shouted, looking at Sirius but jerking his thumb at me. I raised an eyebrow and George turned to look at me. A grin spread across his face like wild fire across a forrest, and he added: "Like, _the_ Moony?"

I gave Sirius a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

Then Harry suddenly slammed his hand on the table and cried out: "Oh-ho! I forgot to tell you!"

Fred and George both let out triumphant cackles of laughter. George even made up a new word.

"Shhiiigallackamagafoo!"

"What's going on?" Sirius asked through chuckles.

"It's Moony!" Shouted Fred pointing at me.

"Of Marauder's Map fame!" added George and suddenly it was clear. I blushed. Sirius couldn't have looked happier.

"Are you one of them?" Fred asked Sirius excitedly.

"He's Padfoot!" Harry answered before Sirius got a chance. "My dad was Prongs!" Harry placed one hand proudly over his chest and beamed at the twins, who seemed to be in a kind of joyful awe.

"Oh Merlin!" cried George. "You're such- I can't believe-" he added to me.

"You are, like, our inspiration!" said Fred to Sirius and I. "If it weren't for that map-"

"We'd be model students," finished George with a glint in his eye. Molly gave a snort of disbelief, and a few of the others tittered.

"Come now, I don't think you can blame it all on the map," said Hermione.

"I can't believe Moony was our bloody teacher!" said Fred unable to conceal his shock.

"You gave us a detention once!" said George grinning and pointing an accusing finger at me "You hypocrite!"

I raised my hands defensively. "I helped make a map! How does that make me a hypocrite?"

"You were one of the Marauders!"

"To this day, you lot hold the detention record!"

"No. He does," I said pointing at Sirius, who just giggled. "Him and your dad Harry."

"You got your fair share, Moony," said Sirius. I tried very hard not to smile. I found it impossible though when I caught sight of Tonks. She was emitting silent giggles and her eyes had turned gold, and with her green hair she looked exactly like a misbehaving elf. A splutter of laughter escaped me, and Fred and George let out roars of triumph.

"Look, I had to give you a detention," I said, "you blew up a bathroom."

Fred and George just laughed, not looking the least bit repentant.

"It's nice to know the Marauders as as famous now as they were back in the day," Sirius remarked, cooly leaning back in his chair.

"You must have some stories," said Fred eagerly.

"Don't be giving them any ideas Sirius," Molly warned, "I don't want to be getting a letter from Hogwarts telling me that my sons have banished gravity from the astronomy tower."

"Banished gravity! That's brilliant!" exclaimed George.

"Thanks mum!" cried Fred.

"Oh Merlin!" said Molly rolling her eyes and taking another drink of wine.

Midnight arrived, we all hugged each other and wished each other Merry Christmas and soon people started to go home and go to bed. Tonks stayed behind, and after Sirius, who was a little pissed by this point, had stumbled upstairs to bed, we were left alone in the Kitchen.

Tonks walked over to the radio and switched it off, then she picked up the Fleetwood Mac record sitting by the record player. I watched her run her fingers along the edge of the record sleeve, take the record out and start to play it. She skipped the first track, and instead let Dreams echo through the room.

"I love this song," she said tapping her feet and swaying to the music. Her eyes were their natural blue-green, and she had let her hair fade to its natural brown, perhaps because it was late and she was getting tired. The music and the wine seemed to tell me to dance with her and tell her how I felt, but I resisted.

"Thunder only happens when it's raining," she sang.

"Players only love you when they're playing." I joined in for the second line and Tonks seemed surprised but delighted to hear me sing.

"I have a Christmas present for you," Tonks said. She found her bag which was hanging on the back of one of the chairs and pulled out a present wrapped in pink and silver paper. I walked towards her and picked up the present. It was book-sized but didn't feel heavy enough to be a book.

"Can I unwrap it now?" I asked, and Tonks grinned.

"Well it is technically Christmas day."

I unwrapped the present to reveal a small wooden box that Tonks had decorated herself with patterns in red and gold, Gryffindor colours. I glanced at Tonks who was biting her lip in a nervous but excited way. I opened the box and was surprised to find a selection of teabags!

"There are a few different flavours, these ones with the blue tags are Earl Grey," Tonks explained pointing to the teabags on the far right of the box. "The orange ones are breakfast tea, the green ones are, er, green tea, obviously, and the pink ones are peppermint."

"Thank you Tonks," I began but Tonks interrupted me.

"Ah, that's not the cool thing though!" she exclaimed, "when you brew them, little messages should come out of the cup."

"Oh wow!" I chuckled. "That's great."

"They will all be different. I hope they'll make you laugh. That was the idea. I know you like to drink tea when you are working, and I thought, a funny little message while you make a cup might brighten your day a little."

I closed the box and put it lightly on the table.

"Thank you Tonks." As I thanked her I gently put my hand on her upper arm, leant towards her and kissed her cheek. It was a dangerous move given our recent history, but it was Christmas so I risked it.

"I have one for you too," I said when I pulled back. "As you may well have guessed from the fact that I have given nearly everyone gingerbread biscuits for Christmas, my budget is more than a little tight this year, so er, it's only small. It's um..."

"No don't tell me what it is!" Tonks protested. "That spoils the surprise."

"I sort of have to. If I don't tell you what it is then you'll think it's really rubbish. It's um, it's a charm."

"A spell? Did you make it?"

"Yes. When I was supposed to be working on defense charms. It's upstairs though, so I'll summon it." I took out my wand and summoned Tonks's present. A few moments later, a small silk bag flew in through the kitchen door and landed on the table next to my tea. I picked up the bag and gave it to Tonks who was smiling in anticipation. She opened the bag and pulled out what looked like a rather unremarkable necklace: a pinky white shell on a silver chain.

"Hold it in your hand until it gets warm," I instructed. Tonks excitedly put the shell in her palm and closed her fingers around it. I waited a few minutes then told Tonks to open her fingers. As I had planned, the shell broke into little pieces which rearranged themselves in the air until they had taken the shape of a tiny bird. A blue tit or something similar. Tonks laughed and admired the little bird which fluttered around her fingers.

"It will be a different animal depending on your mood," I explained.

"It's lovely." Tonks let the small bird land on her hand and transform back into a shell.

"I'm glad you like it."

Tonks put the shell around her neck and sighed happily.

"You look very handsome today," she said and I laughed incredulously.

"Handsome? Me? You've had too much wine."

Tonks rolled her eyes in a teasing way and sighed. Then, in almost a whisper she said: "I wish you'd change your mind."

I felt a strange mix of pain and pleasure. Part of me, the selfish part, loved that she still felt that way about me. And I felt _so_ tempted. I don't know what it was about her that captured me so irrevocably, she was beautiful of course, but there was much more to it than that; Tonks and I just seemed to fit. But at the same time I heard the wolf's voice loud and taunting in my head.

_You'll only hurt her like you hurt everyone else_, it said and I couldn't argue with it.

"Tonks, I thought we'd discussed this," I said sadly.

"I know," she said. "I'm just saying."

"You're so young. It would be wrong. It's better this way."

"Are you sure?" she asked seriously, "if you are, I'll not mention it again, but I don't think you are."

I had no answer for her.

"I'm sorry," I managed eventually.

"It's alright Remus, it's fine, really," Tonks insisted stepping away from me. She paused for a moment then made herself smile again. "Thank you for my present."

"You're welcome."

"Well, I better go," said Tonks, sounding as if she wanted me to stop her.

"I'll, um, I'll show you to the door," I said. It was a quirk of one of the security charms over number twelve, that although you could apparate from one room to another, once inside you couldn't apparate to anywhere outside of number twelve, just as you couldn't apparate into number twelve. Tonks grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder then the two of us walked upstairs to the hall.

"Are you spending tomorrow with your parents?" I asked as we walked towards the front door.

"Yes," Tonks replied quietly looking back at me as she walked. "My nan's coming as well, and every year she and my mum get into a fight over how to cook turkeys. My nan says if you cook them with magic they taste like shiaaaaafff!"

I never found out what Tonks's Grandmother thought of magically cooled turkey because Tonks had tripped over the umbrella stand and tumbled towards the floor. I lunged forward and caught her before she hit the ground. I helped her to her feet, but even after she had found her balance again and hence no longer needed my support, I couldn't let her go. It took an age for me to take my hands from her arms, and even then, neither of us made any attempt to step away from each other. We remained standing with just inches between us.

"Every bloody time," Tonks joked, but she wasn't smiling. She looked surprised and excited and terrified all at once. I felt her hand gently, hesitantly, touch my waist. I couldn't look down to check if she had done that by accident, because I couldn't seem to look away from her eyes. They were staring right at me, as if she was trying to read my mind. She stood on her tiptoes, and pushed my too-long hair out of my face with her free hand. Then she leant towards me. I felt suddenly very hot, but I was shivering. She was so close now that I could feel her breath on my lips, the feathery feeling of it so agonisingly tantalising.

"Tonks..." I heard myself mumble. But as I moved my mouth to speak, my lips brushed against hers and resistance was no longer possible. I kissed her. It was so much better than how I imagined it would be. My mind could never have created such ethereal ecstasy. I could hardly bring myself to stop, but after a minute or two I pulled back.

"I shouldn't..." I murmured keeping my mouth close to hers, and my hands firmly on her waist. Tonks said nothing but hummed quietly as if to say 'but you will'. She was right of course. I kissed her again, more deeply this time.

"Wow," she breathed after. "You are good at that."

I grinned, it was always nice to hear praise.

"So are you," I murmured, leaning towards her in the hope for more. But apparently, two kisses were all I was allowed. She put her fingers on my mouth and grinned.

"And you said you weren't good enough for me," Tonks teased. "You kiss like it's the last time, only the slightest bit hesitant, and then it's all passion and tenderness and...how do I put this, you, _professor_, are just a little bit dirty."

"Dirty?" I said, chuckling slightly at the accusation.

"Yeah..." she said with a grin that made my stomach do a backflip. "I should have known really...I mean, Sirius and James wouldn't have hung out with you if you didn't have a mischievous side."

I was quite shocked really, but very pleased at the same time. I leaned in again. But again she held up her hand.

"See. Dirty." She jabbed a finger at my chest.

"I thought you liked it," I said quietly. "Why will you not let me kiss you again?"

"Because I don't want to let you kiss me all night, only for you to push me away again tomorrow," she said looking at me with a slightly sad expression. "It sounds like I'm being manipulative..."

"No it doesn't," I said feeling guilty. "I've upset you."

"No, you haven't, but I'm afraid you will," she said letting me go. "Now I don't mind being hurt when there's an honest reason behind it – well I do mind, but I can forgive the person – but it will be very hard to forgive you if you hurt me just because you're afraid of letting yourself be happy. Because that's stupid and you aren't stupid, and I bloody hate it when clever people do stupid things."

"That's not the reason..." I began, but she wouldn't let me finish.

"Yeah it is," she said, running her hand through her hair. "The next time you kiss me, I don't want you to feel bad about it afterwards. I don't want you to apologise to me and say you never should have done it. I want you to kiss me and not regret it."


	61. Greer, Greyback and Gruesome Tales

I'm so sorry this chapter has taken so long. I decided to take a short break just to recharge my creative batteries as it were. **To reassure you: I am very keen to see this story through till the end. I've everything planned out right up till the last chapter. I'll try to make updates a little bit more regular. **

I'd also like to say thank you for all you guys who are still reading! I can't believe how long it's been, and it is so humbling to think that there are people out there in the world, whom I've never met, who've faithfully read this strange little story of mine. It really really makes me happy. :)

**61 Greer, Greyback and Gruesome Tales. **

The next morning I awoke with my dreams still echoing in my mind. Dreams of Tonks running her hand through my hair, my hands against her back, the way she closed her blue-green eyes as she leant towards me, the taste of her lips. I sank into the sheets of Regulus's bed with a contented sigh. It took a few moments for me to remember that it had really happened, that it wasn't just another dream. My happiness faded a little as I remembered the previous night's events more clearly. My sigh turned to a groan and I hid my face in my hands.

"What am I doing?"

I pulled the covers over my face and wrapped myself into a duvet cocoon. Then there was a knock at my door. I hardly had time to mumble "go away" before I heard the door open.

"Meeeeerry Christmas Moony!" came Sirius's jolly cry. I tightened my cocoon. I heard Sirius open the curtains so I opened my eyes. Some of the light filtered through the duvet giving the inside of my cocoon a weird womb-like glow.

"Come on, get up," ordered Sirius. Then I felt something solid and fairly heavy hit me in the backside.

"Ow!" I exclaimed and sat up. Unfortunately I remained trapped in the cocoon. From Sirius's perspective I must have looked like a badly wrapped mummy. He laughed while I tried to free myself.

"What did you throw at me?" I said when I finally managed to pull the duvet off my head.

"Present, dimwit," said Sirius gesturing towards the object that had hit me. With surprise I looked down at the present wrapped in red and gold paper. With some effort I tugged my arms out of the cocoon. Sirius had got me some chocolate (very nice too, I couldn't resist eating a few pieces) and a lovely leather-bound copy of H.G. Well's The Time Machine.

"Tonks picked them up for me," Sirius explained while I skim-read the first few pages. "Nice job on Harry's books by the way."

"Yes, they're great books," I agreed, speaking about the revised edition of _Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts_ I had picked up in Diagon Alley for Harry. Sirius had wanted to get Harry something useful but being house-bound he had little opportunity for Christmas shopping, so it was down to me to source the present. I had used Practical Defensive Magic before, for myself and while teaching; the authors Lucas Callan and Gregory Ruff had spent their lives researching defensive spells and were excellent writers, so I knew it'd be a good choice for Harry.

I gave Sirius his Christmas present which I had hidden on top of Regulus's mahogany wardrobe. I had got him some blank records so that he and Tonks could record some of the songs they played together, an idea inspired by the song that had emanated from Tonks's guitar when I enchanted it, and some little lion claw shaped cloak fastenings I found in a flea market in Oxford.

While Sirius tested the cloak fastenings by attaching them to his pyjama top, he asked me if I had given Tonks a present. The memory of our kiss caused my fingers to slip on the book I was holding. I avoided Sirius's eyes and tried to string a sensible sentence together, but the the softness of Tonks's lips and the smell of her skin distracted me. I found myself struggling to say anything at all. Eventually I managed to tell Sirius about the necklace. I made a conscious effort to make it sound like a gesture-present, something that didn't really mean anything, just a nice small gift for a female friend. It was testament to how guilty I felt about what had happened that when I finally managed to get my words out, they were brilliant lies and Sirius didn't suspect a thing.

"So you're going to go with the others to see Arthur?" Sirius said once satisfied I hadn't done anything inappropriate with his cousin.

"Yes, but not until after lunch," I said. "Will you be alright on here on your own?"

Sirius gave me a rebuking look.

"I'm just checking!" I defended. "You're track record for coping with solitude isn't exactly exemplary."

"I'll be fine Remus."

Suddenly we heard a strange thump come from somewhere downstairs, followed by the angry shrieking of Mrs Weasley. Apparently the twins where apparating down the stairs again.

"Time to make an appearance?" suggested Sirius.

"Yes it's probably for the best, before the twins give their mother a heart attack." So far I had only managed to free one arm from my cocoon, while Sirius giggled at me and headed towards the bathroom that joined our rooms, I began the Herculean task of freeing the rest of my body.

Once washed and dressed I made my way to the kitchen. Sirius was already there drinking coffee and watching the twins steal carrots from a pot on the kitchen table while Molly attended the turkey. Fearing there wouldn't be any carrots left for our lunch, I sneakily took out my wand and silently cast a charm so that whenever the twins reached for the pot of carrots their fingers got a little zap.

The sound of either Fred or George letting out an irritated "Ouch!" caused Molly to turn around. When she saw me she smiled and wished me Merry Christmas.

"Merry Christmas Molly," I returned.

"There's a gift there for you," added Molly, with a motherly smile. With surprise mixed with guilt I picked up the squishy looking present sitting on the table. It didn't take a genius to guess what it was. Apparently Sirius got one too. Later that day he told me he was concerned Molly saw the two of us as her children. Personally, I didn't think that was true. I believe Molly knitted me a jumper simply because all the ones I had had holes in the elbows; and in Sirius's case it was probably because Molly failed to realise that for Sirius looking scruffy was a stylistic choice not a poverty induced inevitability. Nevertheless, I was very grateful. Unfortunately, some recipients of Molly's cosy hand-knitted jumpers were less so.

Just as Molly put the turkey into the oven, an owl swooped down the chimney. It gave a fearsome screech, then dumped a tatty looking Christmas present onto the table knocking over a jug of milk before darting back up the chimney. While we recovered from the shock, brushed soot from our shoulders, and charmed the milk back into the jug, Molly slowly picked up the present. It looked like it had been opened then carelessly stuck back together again. It was also wrapped in the same emerald green paper mine had been wrapped with. Molly carefully unfolded the wrinkled paper, while her eyes began to fill with tears. Nestled in the paper was a royal blue knitted jumper with an ornate gold P on the left breast. At once Molly began to cry.

Sirius and I exchanged glances, while the twins immediately started bad mouthing Percy.

"He's a git mum!" insisted Fred.

"You should throw this away," added George trying to grab the jumper. Molly seized it back before he could and continued to sob loudly.

"No, cover it in dung and send it back to him!" suggested Fred. When Molly didn't respond to Fred's humorous suggestion the twins's faces, usually so merry, faded into anxious concern. George put his hand on his mother's shoulder and gave it a little rub.

"It's alright mum, don't cry," he said.

"Yes, Molly, don't cry, it's Christmas day," said Sirius.

"I just thought, with Arthur is hospital...Percy might..." said Molly through thick tears. At that point Fred lost his temper and called Percy a very rude name, that made even Sirius's eyebrows raise.

"Fred! Don't say that about your brother!" screamed Molly. "He's my little boy – I just...I can't...I wish..."

"But he's being a total prat! Dad nearly died and he didn't even visit!" shouted George.

"Boys, why don't you go upstairs, tell the other's breakfast's nearly ready," I suggested putting my jumper down on the table and walking towards Molly. The twins looked at me defiantly, but after a moment they nodded and left the room. Molly had covered her face with one hand and with the other she was tightly clutching Percy's rejected jumper. I put my hand on her shoulder then gently pulled the jumper out of her grip.

"Now Molly, let's have no more tears," I said quietly. Molly's cries turned to sighs and sniffs and she gripped my shoulder for comfort. "Percy has no right to treat you or Arthur the way he's been treating you. You are both wonderful parents. I think his pride is getting the better of him, but he'll come around."

"I just miss him so much, and with what's going on...I don't want...I don't want to hit the bucket with him hating me," wept Molly.

"That's won't happen," I assured her. "We won't let it."

"Yes, no-one is going to die," said Sirius. "And you know, perhaps Percy is just being obnoxious to get your attention – maybe he misses you too, and this is his rather strange way of getting you to talk to him."

Molly bit her lip and looked earnestly at Sirius. She sniffed so I rummaged in my pockets for a tissue.

"Do you think?" Molly asked Sirius. I got the feeling Sirius had only offered his psychoanalysis of Percy's behaviour to try and cheer Molly up. His answer was especially diplomatic.

"It's quite possible. Now, why don't you have a cup of tea and let us finish the cooking?"

Molly hesitated at first, but soon agreed to let Sirius make her some tea.

"I suppose, when you say 'let _us_ finish the cooking', you mean me?" I asked Sirius sardonically, while Molly calmed down in the armchair by the fire. Sirius gave me a lopsided grin.

"Of course."

Despite her worries and regret regarding Percy, and even though she had already cooked a feast for the Order the night before, Molly's Christmas lunch was as grand as could be imagined. I munched through perfectly cooked turkey, deliciously sweet cranberry sauce, crispy roast potatoes and flavoursome vegetables (apart from the spouts which I surreptitiously scooted onto Sirius's plate). I marvelled at Molly's infinite stamina. As a mother of seven I suppose she had to be tough, but she was indefatigable! I did insist however, that she let Sirius and I handle the cooking etc for the next few days so that she could have a well-deserved rest.

Mad-Eye joined us for lunch as he would be accompanying the Weasleys and I to the hospital, and just in time for desert Dung arrived looking as shifty as ever. He had agreed to drive us there as the underground was closed on Christmas Day, so he had brought along the car he had leant me when I moved back home from Oxford. The old Citroen was looking even more battered and bruised, and there was a rather suspicious smell coming from the boot.

"Is that Troll urine I smell?" I asked Mundungus as I prepared to magically enlarge the car's interior.

"Nah, course not Remus, that stuff'll melt your eyes," insisted Dung a little too forcefully. "The boot don't open anyway. Lost the key."

"Doesn't the key that turns on the ignition also open the boot?" I asked pointing to the keys resting on the car's front seat.

"You'd think that, but no."

I decided not to pursue the matter; if Dung wanted to melt his eyes that was his business.

The staff at St Mungo's had made a gallant effort with the Christmas decorations. Glistening Christmas trees, boughs of holly and giant Christmas baubles adorned every hallway. But to me it still looked like a hospital. It still reminded me of sickness and pain, and the long months I had spent there as a child recovering from Greyback's bite and being subjected to experimental treatments. I still felt trepidation as I walked towards the Dai Llewellyn ward for dangerous bites. It had hardly changed since I was young: the polished stone floor bore the same nicks and scrapes, the same paintings looked down at me with the same pitying gaze, and the air carried the same sour smell of disinfectant. When I passed empty hospital beds I could almost see my seven year old self silently weeping as he finally realised that his life would never be the same.

There was a werewolf on Arthur's ward. He was much older than I had been when I was bitten, but I could tell from his ashen face that he felt every bit as afraid as I had. While Arthur was unwrapping gifts from his children, I strolled over to the young man's bed. He had no visitors, so even though he was surprised at first, I think he was glad when I came to speak to him.

It was difficult to console the young man, whose name was Paul DeSanti. He was angry and still struggling to accept what had happened to him. He had a good job working for the British Portkey Company and was certain he would now loose it; but what bothered him most was what his family would think. Paul was supposed to be with them today, but they had no idea where he was or what had happened to him.

"I don't know how to tell them," Paul told me as he twisted his hands into his bedsheets and looked at me with glassy eyes. I sighed and glanced back at Arthur's bed. Molly was telling her husband off for something, but even though they were arguing, you still couldn't fail to see their affection for each other. Arthur's children too loved their father dearly. The noisy affection around Arthur's bed was such a contrast to the sombre quiet around Paul's. There were no cards or flowers or grapes on his bedside table, just a jug of water and a bell to summon the healer. As regrettable as it was, Paul would be introduced to a new kind of loneliness now; the kind that comes when you become an object of fear.

I stayed with Paul for an hour or so, offered what advice I could, told him about the benefits of wolfsbane, and how with some effort he could lead an almost normal life. After a while he did seem a little happier. Our conversation came to a natural end, but I was reluctant to say goodbye. I wanted to ask Paul what had happened the night he was bitten. It wasn't a terribly polite question to ask, it was none of my business really, but the ministry was supposed to be keeping tight control over werewolf activity, so I wanted to know how they had let another wizard become infected. It was probably just because the ministry's idea of controlling werewolves was to impose needless restrictions and sanctions on us while we are in our human form while providing no aid whatsoever for the full moon. Nevertheless, werewolf attacks weren't as common as people thought, so I wanted to know how Paul had got bitten.

"Do you mind me asking how it happened?" I said hesitantly. Paul's lips tightened and his hands once again gripped his bedsheets. "You don't have to tell me of course..."

"I was walking home from work," said Paul his lips trembling slightly. "I live in Andhun in Sussex...it happened right outside my house almost."

Andhun was a small wizarding village near the New Forrest. A pretty little town so I'm told, but rather quiet. I highly doubted whether there had ever been a werewolf attack there before.

"People must have seen me," said Paul an angry flush returning to his cheeks and tears forming in his eyes. "Windows looked onto the street right where it happened. I screamed, someone must have heard me...But no-one helped. Eventually the thing lost interest in me..."

Paul turned to look at the rain pouring from the black sky outside. Then he turned and looked at me with a confused, disillusioned, hopeless expression.

"No-one helped me," he said again.

I didn't really know what to say to that. Even though one can find many examples of man's inhumanity to man just by looking in the newspaper, I am still always shocked to hear about how cruel we can be.

"You will be alright Paul," I assured him. "Tell your family, I'm sure they won't abandon you. Mine didn't. My friends as well have always supported me."

"But what if you just have exceptionally good friends?" asked Paul and I smiled.

"You know, I think you are right," I admitted glancing back at Arthur. "I do have exceptionally good friends. But those are the only friends you ever want to have. As for everyone else, they only treat us the way they do because they find our condition frightening. You just need to be patient with them."

"Being patient was never something I was very good at," Paul said with a smile. Then his smile faded and he looked seriously at me. "Mr Lupin, can I ask you, does it hurt?"

"The transformation you mean?" I said and Paul nodded slowly. Paul's fear was tangible and I sympathised. There was no way Paul could avoid the pain of a full moon, even wolfsbane wouldn't help. Wolfsbane also wouldn't stop Paul feeling like another being had taken residence inside his mind, which in some ways was much worse than the pain. But I don't think there is any merit in telling someone something isn't going to be painful when it is, the more you can mentally prepare yourself for an unpleasant experience the better.

I sighed, ran my fingers over the scar underneath my eye, then said: "Yes. Yes it does."

Paul DeSanti remained in my thoughts over the next few days as the full moon edged closer. He would transform in a specially designed room in the basement of St Mungo's. It wasn't a very nice room, it resembled a large concrete cell the only difference being the few tree trunks magically fixed to the floor for monsters to scratch at, nevertheless it was better than a cage at the ministry. I would be spending the full moon in a forest in Yorkshire.

I had arranged to meet Greer there just before sunset where he would explain what would happen. Greer refused to give me any information in advance. He wouldn't tell me who else would be there, or even how many werewolves there would be. He wouldn't tell me if any of them were medicated either. This is what made me the most nervous. I had asked Snape to make wolfsbane for me because I didn't trust the wolf not to cause havoc, _I _wanted to be in charge. But I would be a man in a wolf's body. What if the others sensed it? The wolf would probably knew how to defend himself if he was attacked, but would I?

The day of the full moon I was especially quiet, or so Sirius said. Perhaps that was why he invited Tonks over, to cheer me up. Happiness was mixed in there along with all the other things I felt when I saw her, but guilt was the predominant feeling. Tonks's hair was long and chocolate brown, her eyes their natural blue-green, her nose just a little smaller than its natural size, and her lips perfect as always. She didn't mention us, or our complicated situation, but she looked at me and smiled in such a way that it was obvious what she was thinking. She thought that I would come around to her way of thinking. She thought it was only a matter of time before I gave in. Maybe she was right. When she sat near me I wanted to hold her hand and every time she said something funny I wanted to put my arms around her. I also had a strange urge to tell everyone I had kissed her. Whenever Tonks gave me a secret flirty look, or when one of the Order spoke to us and didn't think for a second that something might be going on, I wanted to yell out that I had got to kiss her – or better yet kiss her again in front of everyone. However, none of that changed the fact that I was completely unsuitable for her. She was perfect and I was...

Tonks stayed at number twelve most of the afternoon. She divided her time between drinking coffee with Sirius and I and helping the kids with their homework. They all held Tonks opinion in very high regard, so with the new term fast approaching they had decided to rack Tonks's brain for advice on their history of magic essays, answers to their transfiguration question sheets, and potions tips. Tonks's kind and generous nature meant that she was happy to help, but after a while although she would never admit it I could tell that she was beginning to tire.

"So is it not common practice to put lemon balm in an Invigoration Draught?" asked Hermione, who had taken out a pen and parchment to take notes.

"Well it _is_ common practice, but that doesn't mean it's sensible," said Tonks. "Ordinary mint is much better, but they don't put that in the text books because Slidwidger, the potions company that makes the Invigoration Draught you buy from apothecaries, doesn't want people to know; because then homemade Invigoration Draughts would be just as good if not better than the Draught you can buy in the shops and no-one would buy Slidwidger's potion."

"Ah so it's a conspiracy!" interjected Ron with a gleeful grin.

"Sure is Mr Weasley," said Tonks with an equally cheeky smile. Hermione on the other hand cleared her throat.

"So _why_ is mint better than lemon balm?" she asked. Tonks glanced at me as if to ask 'is she always like this?', I gave Tonks a small smile that said 'yes'.

"Garden mint brings out the potency of the Ashwinder eggs. The eugenol in lemon balm counteracts the egg's effects. Makes the potion less powerful."

Hermione had a slightly constipated look on her face. Apparently learning that school textbooks lied to help corporations make money was a bitter pill to swallow.

"What about Wit Sharpening Potions? Is mint the best thing to use in that?" Herminone asked.

"Ah! Hermione!" declared Ginny petulantly, "it's my turn!"

Tonks sniggered and glanced at me again.

"I've got a question about sheild charms," said Ginny.

"Surely Remus is the best person to ask about those," said Tonks. "He's your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher after all."

"Yeah but you're an Auror," said Ginny giving me an apologetic look. I could help but laugh.

"Go on then," Tonks said giggling as well.

"Erm, well... my shield charms don't work properly," Ginny admitted her cheeked going a little pink.

"How do you mean?" asked Tonks.

"Yeah, they seemed alright to me," added Harry, obviously a little put out Ginny hadn't come to him with her problem.

"Normally they are fine. Like in a normal duel my shield charms and deflections are, you know, top shelf," boasted Ginny. "But, if I'm taken by surprise..."

"Whose hexing you without warning?" Ron asked suddenly concerned for his sisters's welfare. Ginny pursed her lips and blushed a little bit more. Ron gave her a pressing look so Ginny told him who her surprise attackers were in a hiss.

"Who?" said Ron.

"FredandGeorge," confessed Ginny under her breath. There were a few involuntary sniggers around the table that Ginny did not appreciate.

"Alright, I've got something that might work," said Tonks sympathetically. She glanced around the room to check that Fred and George were still upstairs doing Merlin know's what in their room. Then she pulled her wand out of the specially designed holster on her thigh and stood up.

"Remus?" she said, "do you mind volunteering as my glamourous assistant?"

I gave Tonks a wry look. She gave me another flirty smile. With a sigh I got to my feet.

"Right, er Ginny come here." Tonks beckoned Ginny over, then held out her wand as if about to explain something. She stopped suddenly and looked at me.

"Er, could you close your eyes Remus, and cover your ears?" Tonks said. I rolled my eyes but did as I was told. Once Tonks had explained whatever it was she wanted to explain to Ginny I was allowed to open my eyes again.

"If you'd be so kind Remus, I'd like you to hex me," said Tonk. I forced myself not to laugh.

"Alright, so long as everyone knows I don't condone this sort of thing," I said. "You shouldn't go around hexing your friends."

Sirius sniggered behind me, while Harry Ron and Hermione glanced at each other in excited anticipation. I looked back at Tonks's smiling face and suddenly had a mental blank. I couldn't think of a single hex. Perhaps it was because I didn't really want to hex her. Why would I want to hex Tonks? I wanted to lay her on a bed of rose petals and feed her grapes, not to hex her. Tonks cocked her head slightly, perhaps sensing my difficulty. In the end I decided on a mild twitchy ears hex.

"Ready?" I asked Tonks politely. Tonks rolled her eyes.

"Remus, I'm trying to show Ginny how to defend herself from _surprise_ hexes, you can't ask me if I'm ready."

Everyone laughed. I shrugged in defeat and looked away from Tonks. I thought for a moment, then deciding to spring a surprise hex on Tonks after all, I turned back to her and threw the twitchy ears hex across the kitchen. Tonks was a trained auror and a gifted witch, so naturally a surprise hex presented no problems for her. Quick as a flash she held up her wand-free hand, which she must have had imbued with protective magic in advance, and deflected the hex. It ricocheted off towards the stove and landed in an empty cauldron with a clang. Meanwhile Tonks used her other hand to swish her wand in my direction and send a hex hurtling at me. I was too busy admiring her deflection to protect myself and seconds later my arms and legs had turned into marrows.

I lay on the floor with vegetables instead of limbs while the children's laughter filled the air for about a minute while Tonks explained to Ginny how she had charmed her own arm to channel the power of a shield charm.

"You can deflect hexes with your own hands much more quickly than you can with a wand," Tonks said. Then she came over and knelt down next to me. She gave me a warm smile and murmured the counter-curse. Once I had my own arms and legs back I leant up on my elbows.

"Thanks," Tonks said as she gently ran her fingers across my temple and into my hair.

"You are impossible, Tonks," I teased. Tonks withdrew her hand from my hair and flashed me an impish grin.

"You love it," she said before jumping up to rejoin the others.

"That's exactly the problem," I said under my breath. I pulled myself off the floor and sat back down at the table. Sirius I noticed was checking the time on Ron's watch.

"Three o' clock," he mumbled looking at me with a serious expression. My throat suddenly felt dry. I clasped my hands together and rested them on the table.

"Right guys, I think you've pestered Tonks enough now," Sirius said authoritatively. Then he turned towards Harry in particular. "If you don't mind," I heard him say quietly, then he whispered something to Harry that I couldn't hear. I saw Harry nod in understanding then head towards the kitchen door, the others following his lead.

"See you later Tonks," Harry said, then he turned to me with a kind of supportive expression that reminded my instantly of James, "professor."

It was clear Harry knew what tonight was, although I was sure he didn't know anything about Greer. I felt a pang of embarrassment to have his sympathy. In fact, Sirius's efforts to be encouraging made me feel embarrassed. I wasn't a child, and it wasn't like I hadn't been on missions for the Order before, I didn't need encouragement. However, that's not to say I didn't appreciate the support. Once the children had left the kitchen, Sirius turned to me.

"What time did Greer say he'd meet you?"

"Three thirty," I replied. "Which means I better go now. It's a twenty minute walk from Madam Wilkes's Apothecary to the pub where Greer will meet me."

"He's meeting you at a pub?" Tonks asked confused. Perhaps she thought we were going to have a pre-transformation drink for some dutch courage.

"It's the nearest landmark to the forrest Greer uses," I explained. I stood up and rubbed my hands together, then rubbed my fingers against the top of my wand which rested in the loop in my belt. I still wasn't one hundred percent sure what to do with my wand. I definitely didn't want to leave it behind. I reckoned the best thing to do was probably to hide it somewhere.

"Right, er," I mumbled. I took out my wand and summoned my cloak from the peg in the hall outside the kitchen. I shrugged it over my shoulders and was about to fasten the rather tarnished fastenings at the front when Tonks jumped up from her chair to do it for me. I looked questioningly at her. She smiled and fastened my cloak, then for a moment rested her hands on my chest.

"Please be careful," she said softly. Her words evoked an unexpected but pleasant feeling of calm. Although she was telling me to be careful, he tone of voice was not that of someone who doubted my ability to take care of myself, she had faith in me. She rubbed her fingers against my collar bones for a moment or two. I smiled reassuringly and Tonks let me go. I noticed Sirius looking at us and smirking and felt a twist in my stomach. Tonks tucked her hair behind her ear and I realised I could never be friends with her until I had gotten over my feelings for her, but as long as we were near each other that would never happen. I had to distance myself from her, if I didn't I would fall in love with her, if I wasn't already, and then it would just hurt even more when she realises that she can do so much better.

I walked towards the fireplace. I slipped my feet into my shoes that had been sitting next to the coal scuttle. Then I took a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire. The flames turned from gold to green and I stepped in. I turned back to face the kitchen, waved goodbye then announced clearly to the fire "Madam Wilkes's Apothecary".

The walk from the Apothecary to the pub was uneventful and shorter than I expected. While I waited for Greer at the Royal Oak the sky steadily got darker and the sun crept closer to the horizon. When the sun's disk was just half its length from the horizon Vincent Greer arrived, instantly recognisable from his short stature and wild grey beard. He was a little underdressed for the weather, which was icy and bitterly cold, although there was no snow. He was wearing some tatty brown trousers with holes at the knee, a dirty looking oil-skin coat and nothing bust some slip-on canvas shoes on his feet. He approached me slightly nervously, and peered at me as if unsure I was the right person.

"Mr Lupin?" he squeaked uncertainly.

"Yes," I replied. "It's nice to see you again Mr Greer." Greer bent away from me a little, apparently unused to people being polite to him.

"I wasn't sure if you were really going to come," Greer commented casually.

"I'm quite keen to meet the others."

Greer mumbled and rubbed his hands together then looked towards the setting sun. "We best go."

We walked quickly along a little muddy path behind the pub and then across a field.

"How far is the place where you transform?" I asked as we walked.

"Not far," said Greer.

"How many others will there be?"

"I don't know. I never know until they come."

"Do you know much about them? Are they mostly wizards?"

"Stop asking so many questions!" Greer snapped crossly. "You can ask them if you are so interested, but beware if they don't want to tell you! I wont stop them if they want to bite you for being nosy."

At the other end of the field was a well trodden path leading into a wood. After about fifteen minutes we left the path and started to traipse across ferns, nettles and ivy. The trees gradually got denser and the undergrowth thicker, and I could tell we were walking through parts of the forrest that humans rarely visited. Eventually the forrest was so dense that I couldn't see the sun anymore and when I looked behind me I could hardly tell where we had come from. It was a wonder how Greer knew where he was going.

I was beginning to feel the oncoming transformation. I felt restless, my skin was itching, and every so often I felt the muscles in my shoulders and back twitch uncomfortably. I began to worry about how long it would be before we reached our destination. How close was Greer cutting it? Would the other werewolves be there when we arrived? Would I have time to prepare myself? Would I have to transform in front of them? Just as I started to agonise over these questions Greer stopped.

We were standing in a small clearing around a fallen tree that had large shelves of fungus growing out of it. There was no-one there, and it was silent apart from the wind gusting through the trees and the occasional sound of an animal darting through the undergrowth. Greer looked at me with a pleased expression and I frowned.

"Where are they all?" I asked.

"About," replied Greer. I looked around again. I squinted at the dark spaces between the trees but I couldn't see anyone. I stepped more fully into the clearing onto a patch of grass. Every time I heard rustling I looked towards the sound. A few times I thought I saw a figure moving in the darkness, but never clearly.

"We don't see each other until after sunset," Greer explained. "Then they will come out from the trees and meet here." He gestured towards the fallen tree.

"Oh I see," I said. I felt relieved that I wouldn't have to transform in front of a group of strangers, but this would mean I probably wouldn't ever meet the other werewolves in their human form.

"You look nervous," said Greer. I turned to him and in the dull light I could just about make out a smile underneath his beard.

"Do I?" I looked down at my hands which were quivering slightly, either a sign that the transformation would be soon or a symptom of the nerves Greer had noticed in me.

"It will be fine," said Greer reassuringly. He seemed so much more comfortable in the forrest. His shoulders were dropped rather than hunched over and his arms loose by his sides. Evidently the forrest was more his home than that ramshackle little cottage in Sheffield.

"I best leave, we have only a few minutes," Greer said. "I will see you in our other life."

With that the odd little man walked calmly away from me and into the trees. I followed him with my eyes until I felt a spark of pain in my chest. Automatically I closed my eyes and winced. When I opened them, Greer was gone.

I did not feel at east standing alone in the middle of a strange dark forrest. An involuntary shudder spread across my back and into my arms. Then I felt an ache in my bones as they yearned to change. I rubbed my eyes and felt sweat on my brow despite the freezing temperature. Quickly, I took off my cloak and laid it on the ground next to a tree. I laid my jumper and shirt on top of it. Then just as my muscles began to spasm, I took off my shoes and pulled out my wand.

The pain suddenly got worse. My spine felt like it was moving and I groaned. My wand still clutched in my fingers I pushed my hand against the tree and grit my teeth as all my bones started to stretch. I took a few deep breaths. Then, with the pain still shooting through my body, I bent down and pushed my wand into the mud. I stopped when just the handle was sticking out of the ground, making my wand look like a tree root. So I would be able to find my wand in the morning, I held my palm over the ground next to it and cast a spell so that a single brilliant white lily grew out of the ground. As I cast the spell I watched claws grow painfully out of my nail beds, and saw thick fur push out through my goosepimpled skin. When the flower had reached its full hight and its petals had unfolded I stepped back. Even this simple magic was exhausting in the middle of a transformation. I breathlessly tugged off my trousers, then collapsed onto all fours and let the transformation reach its end.

The next time I raised my head the forrest had completely changed. Through a wolf's eyes it didn't seem so dark. I could make out every leaf on the ground, and instead of blank shadows between the trees, I could see the rest of the forrest. The smell had changed as well. The smell of the fungus growing on the rotten tree was so much more potent, as was the tangy smell of wet leaves. I could smell animals too: mice, bats, owls, foxes and deer; both ones that were nearby and ones that had passed through the clearing hours before. I could also smell Wolfsbane, Dittany and Hellebore which puzzled me somewhat. I followed the smell and found several small piles of ash hidden under fallen leaves. Greer must have been there the day before and burnt the plants so that their scent infused the trees in the clearing. I remembered him telling me the first time I met him that burning these three plants together could have a calming effect on werewolves. As I paced around the clearing, to my surprise I found I quite enjoyed the feeling of the damp grass against my paws.

Suddenly I heard movement behind me. I turned around sharply and raised my hackles. I sniffed the air and smelt the unmistakable scent of a werewolf. I stepped back a little and kept my eyes on the place where I thought the werewolf was hiding. He must have been behind the blackthorn shrub, but I still couldn't see him. I had a feeling this werewolf wasn't medicated with wolfsbane like I was. When I spent the full moon with Sirius, even though he was in his dog form, I could always smell a little bit of human in him. I couldn't smell anything human about the wolf in the bushes. I heard the wolf move again, then I heard him give a low threatening growl. I stepped back again. The wind picked up a little and the trees to my right gave a woody clatter as their branches blew against each other.

Suddenly an enormous beast leapt out of the bushes. I ran out of its path. I stopped when I reached the fallen tree. I stood as still as rock with my hackles still raised and my teeth slightly bared, and stared at the strange wolf without blinking. He was bigger than I was with a much browner coat. He stared back at me, pondering whether he should attack me, I was a stranger after all, and he probably sensed my human mind. I saw his paw raise of the ground, his razor sharp claws glinting in the moonlight. He prepared to pounce at me and I prepared to run. Then suddenly another wolf appeared out of nowhere and roared at the brown one. This one was grey like me and about the same size. It took a moment, but somehow I recognised the grey wolf as Greer. I watched slightly in awe as Greer barked at the brown wolf until it bowed its head in submission and sat down obediently.

Then Greer jumped onto the fallen tree with a grace and agility that I would never ascribe to his human self. Greer stood proudly on the fallen tree like it was a stage, raised his head to the sky and howled. Sirius had once told me my wolf's bay was impressive, but if mine was impressive then Greer's was absolutely epic. It was loud and haunting and made my fur stand on end. After a few seconds the brown wolf joined in, his howl a few tones below Greer's and not nearly as powerful. I sank into the shadow of a birch tree just as more wolves began to emerge from the forrest. I was introduced to a new smell with each one. There was one whose fur was very dark grey, nearly black who prowled in and stared fiercely at me with his red eyes. I could feel his distrust and irritation burning across the clearing. There was another wolf who was quite pale and a little smaller than the others who stuck very close to Greer and hardly paid any attention to anyone else. Then there was a thin wolf who, as soon as he entered the clearing, came and started sniffing around me. He came very close and I felt a bit uncomfortable, but he wasn't displaying any threatening signals. He smelt faintly human so I think he must have been on wolfsbane like me. Perhaps he could sense I was too, hence why he was so interested in me. He was the first wolf to speak to me.

I had never communicated with another werewolf before, but it turned out to be much the same as communicating with Sirius when he's in his dog form. Complex ideas were conveyed with small signals and movements.

"Who are you?" the thin wolf asked me. I didn't answer, I just gave him a warning stare and he sauntered off.

Within five minutes a pack had assembled. There were nine wolves there, not including myself, and they gathered around Greer who sat on the fallen tree. They all seemed to regard him with a kind of affectionate awe. I must admit even I felt rather impressed by him. He was nothing like the human version of himself: he was austere and confident and seemed to have mastered how to control not only his own bloodlust but the bloodlust of the entire pack – all without wolfsbane. Most of the wolves, I could sense, were little more than animals: they growled and drooled and when they barked it was to express their desire to tear human beings to pieces. But Greer was different. If he felt any murderous intentions at all, then they were completely under his control. Perhaps matters would be different if he were close to a human, but in the safety of the forrest Greer was in his element.

When all the wolves had settled and finished howling, Greer introduced me to them. At his command I reluctantly stepped out of the shadows.

"This is Lerian," Greer said. I had difficulty understanding what he had introduced me as at first. I knew he had given me a name because the incline of his muzzle was the signal animals give when referring to specific other animals, but the flicker of his pupils indicated that he had called me 'learned' or 'well-read' or 'bookish' as well. In the end I decided he had given me a name in some wolfish language that meant 'the learned one'. The other wolves glared and growled at me, but Greer quietened them with a bark. Then Greer told me to howl. I blinked at him in puzzlement. I'd never been given such a strange instruction. But with all their eyes on me I couldn't say no. I raised my head, and sang my wolf's bay. Within a few moments Greer had joined in, and before too long the whole pack had. The strange sorrowful sound echoed through the woods, and I felt my nerves dissipate slightly.

It transpired that Greer's pack passed time during the night exploring the forrest, much as the marauders and I did whilst at school. Occasionally they would hunt a deer, sometimes they would play games, but any decision was always made by Greer. The others looked to Greer not just for guidance, but also for protection. He was the fastest runner, had the keenest hearing and knew the forrest better than any of the rest of them; when they transformed with him they were safe from persecution, and safe from themselves. Greer's idea of transforming together seemed to work. In fact it wasn't dissimilar from James's idea of keeping me company as animals at school. In the company of other animals werewolves weren't as dangerous. I'm not sure if Greer's pack in particular was for me. Perhaps if I got to know the other werewolves better it would be different, but that first night I felt like an outsider.

The others weren't comfortable with me being there either. Sometime into the night they started to turn on me. We had wandered to a small stream and the wolf with black fur and red eyes had decided he had had enough of me tagging along. While the others paused for a drink, he came up to me and without warning swiped his claws across my jaw. I gave a yelp of surprise and pain. I instinctively barked back at him but apparently he didn't hold much stock in non-violent negotiation. He launched himself at me. I fought back and fortunately human foresight gave me an edge and I was able to trap one of his legs in a tangle of ivy vines. While he growled and tried to free himself Greer came over to see what was going on.

"What are you doing Lerian?" he asked me.

"I was attacked," I replied looking towards the black-furred wolf.

"Why did you attack him, Strenga?" Strenga, I gathered was the wolfish way of saying 'the strong one'.

"He's not one of us," growled Strenga, flecks of saliva spewing from his snapping jaws. I growled to show him I wasn't afraid of him. "I can smell it – he's like Faran," (the travelled one) "he loves humans, we should kill him."

Faran was the thin wolf whom I had sensed was also taking wolfsbane. Upon hearing his name mentioned by Strenga, Faran barked aggressively at him.

"Shut up you animal!" Faran seemed to say. "You want nothing but to attack things."

"I want to kill humans! They deserve it! They deserve to die!" Strenga barked and spat. With another heave he had yanked himself free and charged at me again, but Greer knocked him away.

"Take a drink and then we'll run, you are restless," said Greer before calmly sitting down on the grass by the stream.

"I don't want to run! I want to go to the village where the people are!"

Strenga snarled, deep furrows forming over his red eyes. I thought he looked terrifying, but Greer just sat calmly in front of him hardly even blinking. The small pale coloured wolf that always stuck close to Greer bravely jumped between Strenga and Greer.

"Stalwart says no!" the pale wolf said. Stalwart meant 'brave leader' or something to that effect.

"Going near people always ends in carnage," said Greer or Stalwart.

"That's what I want!"

The rest of the pack took a few steps away from Strenga.

"Humans hunt me and chase me! I've had enough!" argued Strenga.

"They hunt us because we hurt them! We have to stay away!" said Greer, and I was astonished by his clarity of thought. An unmedicated werewolf that could understand the consequences of his actions? That was unheard of.

"Remember Wo," (the sorrowful one) "he has to live alone now because humans want to kill him," added the pale wolf.

"The wolf who made you?" questioned Strenga, and the pale wolf gave particular sort of blink which meant yes. "He was an idiot anyway. I say we join Greyback. He can lead us to glory!"

I shuddered with anger at the mention of Greyback.

"Who told you this?" asked Greer. Strenga didn't answer.

"Maybe Strenga's right," said another wolf suddenly. I turned to see a wolf with greyish brown fur and dark green eyes. He moved towards us slowly. The way he walked seemed too deliberate for a wolf so I wondered he was on wolfsbane too. A sniff of the air as he passed confirmed it; he definitely had a human scent about him.

"Greyback might be able to give us more than Greer," said the grey wolf.

Greer stood up angrily.

"We don't use our real names here, Freca!" he warned. Freca I think meant 'the bold one'.

"Why not? We shouldn't hide!" argued Freca as he paced between Strenga, Greer, the pale wolf and me. "I'm fed up hiding!"

"Stalwart is our leader!" the pale wolf barked. "You are a traitor!"

The pale wolf launched himself at Freca, and they began to scratch and bite each other. Strenga joined in as well, beating the poor little pale wolf with his claws while Freca sank his teeth into his neck and held him still. Greer barked at them to stop, and ran forward to pull Strenga away. I decided I couldn't just watch so I jumped forward and joined the fight.

Eventually Greer and I managed to push Strenga and Freca back. The little pale wolf curled up on the floor and whimpered. Greer kindly went to comfort him, while I growled at Strenga and Freca.

"You have a good arrangement here with Stalwart," I told them. "Why throw that away?"

"We have no honour!" growled Freca.

"We never taste blood!" roared Strenga.

"But you are safe!" Feran added from a few feet away.

"And anyway, Greyback is locked away in prison," I barked. "You couldn't join him even if you wanted to."

Strenga's red eyes suddenly seemed to glow, and Freca bared his sharp teeth. If wolves could grin I'm sure they both were.

"He wont be in Azkaban for much longer," Freca said with sinister glee.

I barked at him and demanded he tell me what he meant, but to no avail. He wouldn't tell me and then Greer decided he'd had enough of his pack fighting with each other so led them in a hunt.

When the sky started to take on that greyish tinge signalling dawn we all returned to the clearing. From there the wolves quietly walked away into the forrest by themselves to transform. As they left most of them glared at me, perhaps warning me not to return next month. Feran, the pale wolf and Greer were the only ones who said goodbye.

While I waited for the sun to rise I looked down at my paws and wondered if I looked as frightening as the wolves I had seen that night. I inspected the inch long claws of my right paw. There were two that had smears of blood on them. It was probably Strenga's or Freca's. The sight of it made me feel sick.

I thrust my claws into the mud to wipe off the blood. When I pulled them out, the sun had started to shine through the trees. My claws shrank, fur receded, my bones returned to their normal shape, and soon I was myself again. I had a cut across my chest form where Strenga had scratched me. I dressed quickly then retrieved my wand. I heard movement behind me, just like the night before, so spun around to see who it was. It was Greer, looking small and unthreatening, nothing like the wolf he turned into.

"Good morning," said Greer in his soft squeaky voice.

I shrugged my cloak over my shoulders, "good morning."

"What do you think?" Greer seemed genuinely interested in my opinion.

"Are there always fights like that?"

"No," replied Greer. "But there have been more lately. Ever since Freca joined us."

"What do you think he meant when he said Greyback back won't be in Azkaban much longer?" I felt surges of anger as I thought about the man that bit me.

"I don't know," Greer said and I believed him.

"Who is Wo?" I asked.

"I shouldn't tell, but Wo is Anthony Driscoll, the young man you met."

"They said he's on the run now, is that true?"

"The ministry wanted to execute him."

"Greyback wont be able to give them a better life," I said bitterly. "Just a more violent one."

"Yes, Greyback is a violent creature," agreed Greer, "but maybe he's right. Maybe we should stop hiding. He wants to make more of us too, and maybe that would be good. More people would understand-"

"No Greer!" I said fiercely. "I admire your positive attitude towards lycanthropy, I think I could learn a lot from you. But, it's still a disease. It's still painful and it makes life difficult. I have it now, so I have to live with it, but I wouldn't want inflict this on anyone else."

Greer considered me for a moment then nodded.

"Yes, yes, you're right," he murmured solemnly. "Will we see you next month?"

"I don't know," I said putting my hand on the cut on my chest. It was hurting and I could feel blood soaking into my clothes. "I'll, um, I'll see."

"It was nice to have you," said Greer. "You are very brave."


	62. Joy and Sadness

Sorry again for such a delayed update but I don't have much free time at the moment. This chapter is pretty damn long, you may want to read it in stages, I hope that sort of makes up for the delay. I haven't actually read it through, so it's probably crap with loads of typos...

**Joy and Sadness**

"Tonks asked after you. Again."

Sirius and I were sitting in the dining room of number twelve waiting for an Order meeting to begin. It was the eleventh of January and the first time I had been back to headquarters in over a week. Since the full moon I had been working in Oxford, which provided a neat excuse to avoid Tonks. It was a coward's gambit, but I couldn't think how else I would get over her; my resistance was weakened every time I saw her. I didn't even return at the weekend for fear I might bump into her. Sirius had worked out what I was doing and had made no attempt to hide his disapproval. This was at least the fifth time we had had this conversation. Just like every other time, I responded to Sirius with deliberate casualness.

"Was it anything important?"

"She didn't say what it was about," replied Sirius with a glare that told me he knew what it was about and he knew that I knew what it was about.

"Well I'm sure she'll find me if its important."

Sirius rolled his eyes and shook his head. I looked down at the notes in front of me to avoid his irritated glare. Contrary to my hopes, Sirius had no desire to drop the subject.

"She coming tonight," he Sirius. I made conscious effort not to react. "Maybe you could talk to her after the meeting."

"I have to go back to Oxford tonight," I said quietly pretending to add a comment to my notes, "we're testing the charms we put on the canal."

"Oh what a bloody coincidence!" exclaimed Sirius sarcastically. I reluctantly looked back at him. "You need to sort things out with her," he told me. "If you don't want a relationship with her then you've got to talk to her about it."

"I did," I moaned. "I've explained..."

"Yes, but then you went and kissed her."

Apparently Tonks tells Sirius everything. I felt my face redden just as the dinning room door opened. I rubbed my left eyebrow in an attempt to hide my face but it probably just drew attention to my blushing cheeks. The first Order members to arrive were Molly, Bill, Moody, and Emmeline. Sirius had confessed to me that he and Emmeline did get up to something the night of his birthday, but as Emmeline was technically spoken for Sirius's irresistible charm had only earned him 'a snog and a quick fondle'.

"How long before we get started?" asked Moody. He surveyed us all with his magical eye as if making sure we weren't impostors. I decided it probably wasn't safe to look shifty while Moody was about so uncovered my face.

"Presumably as soon as everyone gets here," replied Sirius.

"I wish they'd hurry up," said Molly, "I've told the children I've come down to help you two -" she nodded at Sirius and I "- with the laundry. As soon as they work out we're having a meeting they'll be down outside the door trying to listen in."

There was a quiet chuckle among us, then the door opened again. Tonks entered this time, followed by Hestia, Elphias Dodge and Dung, though I didn't pay much attention to them. Tonks was wearing her hair short and pink, her nose just a tad smaller than its natural size and a lovely pair of electric blue eyes but all these lovely features didn't detract from the shocking black eye she had. When I saw it, I stood up with concern. Or rather I started to stand up, when I was half-way between sitting and standing I worried I looked a bit stupid. I hovered over my chair for a few seconds, then sat down again while Sirius tried not to snigger.

"What have you done to you eye?" I asked Tonks. She grimaced slightly as she sat down opposite me.

"I got hit in the face with a table."

"What do you mean?"

Tonks smiled at me and I was compelled by misguided happiness to smile back. Tonks glanced at the others who were all taking seats at the dining table, Moody in particular.

"Can I tell you later?" she said and I nodded.

"Can't you morph it away?" asked Emmeline, looking at Tonks's eye.

"I can't really morph injuries," explained Tonks. "I mean, I can make it a bit less prominent -" with an expression of effort, Tonks morphed the bruise so that it changed from mauve to lilac "- but I can't get rid of it completely."

The dining room door opened a third time and the rest of the Order trundled in, taking up the last few available chairs and magically conjuring extra ones. When Dumbledore arrived the meeting began.

Since the Order reconvened just over six months ago we had managed to recruit something like fifty people. I can't be sure of the number because I never saw most of them. Some of our new recruits were influential people: the wizards running the Department of Supernatural Science for example, or the writer and muggle-born rights activist Lucian Sinclair whom Emmeline had managed to get on our side, or the chief Healer of St Mungo's, or Fleur's god father who worked for the French Minsitry of Magic. Tonks and Kingsley were also valuable assets, though given the Ministy's hostility towards Dumbledore, neither Tonks nor Kingsley were in a position to recruit new members. Instead they acted as spies. They were in a difficult position: as aurors they already had to keep many secrets from their family and friends, and now as members of the Order they had to keep a different set of secrets from their colleagues. With so many secrets to keep it's a wonder how Tonks was as relaxed as she was. While I thought about this I watched Tonks listen to Dumbledore give a report. She listened very attentively with a serious and determined expression; the Order meant a lot to her. That ghastly black eye must have been sore because her eye watered a little every time she blinked. I also noticed she had a red mark on her bottom lip. The last time I had seen a mark like that was in Germany while I lay on the stretcher she had cast for me. She had bitten her lip hard enough to leave a mark. I sighed deeply as I realised that perhaps Tonks wasn't as happy as she always seemed. Maybe all the secrets were getting to her after all.

She must has sensed me looking at her, because she turned to me and with a questioning look. I smiled and shrugged, but I felt worried. Tonks had enough stresses to be dealing with already without me confusing her.

"Tonks?" Kingsley suddenly said. Tonks quickly looked away from me and I felt a stab of guilt.

"Sorry, er yeah," she began uncertainly. "Well Boderick Bode is in St Mungo's because he tried to remove a prophecy that wasn't about him. This is two weeks after Avery got free of his guards and tried to get in there – the night Sturgis was caught."

"We thought then that maybe Avery had an accomplice," said Dedalus Diggle. "Otherwise how else would he have overpowered Sturgis – maybe it was Bode."

"Bode's record doesn't suggest that," Tonks said. "I've looked him up and he's clean as a whistle. He's a bit odd, likes collecting mushrooms, the type you'd expect to work in the department of mysteries to be honest, but he's never committed a crime."

"Did you ever find out if Avery was sending a message Tonks?" asked Sirius.

"I used veritaserum and he confessed that he had sent one using one of the fireplaces in the Department of Mysteries. But, and this is where it gets weird, he said he didn't know what message he sent or who he was speaking to."

"But you used Veriteserum! How could he lie?" added Dedalus, his top hat wobbling in his confusion.

"I don't think he was lying, I think he genuinely didn't know what he said," said Tonks.

"That doesn't make any sense – how could he not know what he said?" exclaimed Emmeline angrily.

"There are ways of resisting Veriteserum," said Elphias Dodge. "A deception potion for example."

"How's he going to make a deception potion in Azkaban?" Tonks said, knocking down that theory.

"What if Avery cast a memory charm on himself after sending a message?" I suggested. "Death Eaters have been known to do this."

"Hundreds of the bastards did it at the end of the first war so we couldn't get them on confessions," Moody said.

"Why don't we run some analyses on Avery's mind, see if it's been magically tampered with," suggested Kingsley. Dumbledore nodded and Kingsley added something to his notes.

"Avery must have had some help getting away from his guards, but I don't think it was Bode. I reckon Bode was imperiused when he tried to get the prophecy. And then there's the question of how a giant snake get into the Ministry the night Arthur was attacked. Bode was already in St Mungo's by that point. I think there's a mole in the department. Maybe more than one."

"We'll send someone to speak to Bode," said Dumbledore. "See if he knows anything."

"But his mind's gone wibbley," argued Dedelus. "You go mad if you try to take a prophecy that's not yours to take."

"Even so, we might still be able to get something out of him. The human mind is very resilient."

"I'll do it," volunteered Hestia. "I work at the hospital anyway so..."

"Good, thank you Hestia," said Dumbledore. "Now Remus, I believe you have two reports tonight."

I started with Oxford. Bringing statues to life using the emotions of muggles was a novel idea, one which most of the wizards in Oxford didn't think would work. Their doubts were justified: turning a thought into a power to alter reality was magic, if muggles could do this then they wouldn't be muggles, they'd be wizards. The difference with my spells was that _I_ was turning muggle thoughts into powers, they weren't doing it themselves. Nevertheless, it was still a very unusual idea. The spells I had designed involved three stages. The first was to charm the statues to absorb the thoughts and affections of the townspeople, like weird emotional sponges. The second stage was to give the statues the ability to come alive. Then the last stage was to link the statues new ability with the thoughts they had absorbed, so that the statues's behaviour would be controlled by them. We only charmed a few statues to begin with and we'd spent the last week testing them. The first statue we tested was one of the giant carved heads that sit atop square pillars outside the Sheldonian Theatre. They are locally known as Emperors, and often mistaken by American tourists as the twelve apostles (even though there are thirteen) but they are actually giant 'herms'. At four in the morning, when there weren't many muggles about, three Oxford wizards, my old boss Professor Hawthorne, Filius Flitwick and myself assembled at the foot of one of these giant heads, while a couple of Hawthorne's students kept watch. The heads with their curly beards and wild staring eyes did look rather imposing, but they didn't look at all magical.

"What now then Lupin?" asked one of the Oxford wizards with a sour look. I swallowed and reached for my wand.

"Yes, do hurry up it's freezing," added another Oxford wizard.

"Well, in theory they should respond when someone tries to destroy it or starts firing curses," I said. I held my wand out in front of me. When I looked up at the muggle-made statue I felt sure my spells wouldn't work. How could they? It was a ridiculous idea. I felt the disapproving eyes of the Oxford wizards boring into the back of my head. It wasn't going to work and they would be proven right, I would be cast out of Oxford for the second time and shunned from the academic world forever. Still, I had to try.

"Flipendo!" I cried. The hex hit the stone wall of the pillar with a small puff of red smoke and a scattering of red sparks. Nothing happened. The statue remained motionless. The spell hadn't even dented the stone. There was a groan from the Oxford wizards.

"Try a more powerful spell," Flitwick suggested with a kind smile. I sighed and tried again.

"Confringo!" This spell had a greater effect on the stone – it blasted a small hole in the side of the pillar – but the statue remained immobile. My heart sank.

"I knew it wouldn't work!" One of the Oxford wizards exclaimed.

"This project has been a complete waste of time – I've been saying this from the beginning Lupin!" another yelled angrily at me. He was called Portus, and with his long white beard looked a little like Dumbledore, sadly he had a completely contrasting temperament.

"Perhaps one of the enchantments didn't take," I suggested weakly. "Or maybe we should have waited longer for it to absorb psycho-activity..."

"Or maybe we never should have started this in the first place!" Portus argued. "I can't believe you sanctioned this Hawthorne!"

"The department conducts experiments like this all the time, not all of them work – but that happens in science," argued Hawthorne. "Besides, some of the other statues were nearly working..."

"A werewolf's idea would never work! They have addled minds!" yelled Portus.

"That's nonsense Portus and you know it!" Filius squeaked in my defence. "Why don't you give it one more try Remus."

I honestly didn't see the point, but I pushed my hair out of my face and raised my wand again.

"Confringo!" I called again. As the spell flew through the air something quite extraordinary began to happen. The giant head turned towards me with the crunching sound of stone moving against stone. I stepped back in surprise. Then extending out of the pillar, like an eel out of a swamp, was a carved stone arm. Another arm extended out of the other side, then a chest rose forward. It was like the body of the herm had been concealed inside the pillar and now it was stepping out. Soon the giant stone head had a giant stone body to go with it. The statue clapped his hands over my curse and destroyed it. Then he stepped towards me and balled his giant stone hands into fists. The Oxford wizards and I scrambled away from it, all of us too shocked to speak. The giant statue raised his hand and seemed to beckon the other heads. A few moments later and they were growing matching stone bodies and stepping out of their pillars. Soon all thirteen heads had grown bodies and were standing ready to fight.

They seemed to take a particular disliking to me, which was to be expected really as I had been the one to cast the curse. They moved menacingly towards me.

"Wow! Well done Remus!" Filius Flitwick remarked.

"I can't believe it actually worked," one of the Oxford wizard mumbled to himself.

"I hope none of the students in Wadham can see this..." Hawthorne murmured nervously.

"It looks pretty good," I said stepping a bit further from the statues that had begun to follow me. "But er, I wonder how I get them to stop..."

"This is your charm work, you should be able to control it," one of the Oxford wizards yelled as the thirteen giants slowly surrounded me.

"Er yes right..." I mumbled nervously. "Finite!" The giants ignored me. I wasn't surprised, it wouldn't be a very good charm if invaders could call off Oxford's guardians with a simple 'finite'. The giants had encircled me now and were attempting to trap me in a stone prison.

"Try raising a surrender Remus!" Filius shouted from outside the giant's circle. I lifted my wand and shot white smoke from it, a universal gesture of surrender. The giants made no attempt to release me. I decided to take a different approach.

"I am Remus Lupin! Muggle-born and member of the Order of the Phoenix. I am an ally to Oxford and called this town my home for five years!" I yelled at the giants. They stopped edging forwards. They looked down at me for a few moments as if deciding whether or not they believed me. To my enormous relief they began to walk away. I began to laugh and soon Filius was laughing with me and jumping up in the air with excitement.

"How wonderful! Their loyalty definitely seems to be with Oxford."

"Well done, that was quite something," Professor Hawthorne said patting me on the back. "Maybe the department will let you come back now," he added in a whisper. I grinned hopefully and glanced at the Oxford wizards. They looked mildly disgruntled at having been proved wrong, but impressed at the same time. The giant statues made their way back to the square pillars they had climbed out of. Their bodies sank into the pillars and disappeared leaving just their beaded heads sitting on top. Herms were traditionally used as symbolic protectors for public buildings; now I suppose, the herms outside the Sheldonian Theatre really were.

The Order were pleased to hear the good news, and were glad muggles like Professor Hawthorne were on our side.

"If it came to it, Oxford could be used as a save haven for witches or wizards who no longer feel safe in their own homes," I suggested.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore, "perhaps if we are lucky, the Oxford wizards will be able to convince the Ministry to take Voldemort's return more seriously. Now, how was the full moon with Greer's pack?"

This was a report I was much less excited to give. I hated drawing attention to my lycanthropy, I hated the idea of other people looking at me and seeing a monster. Nevertheless I took a deep breath and told the Order what I had learnt. I told them how Greer had done a great deal of good work for the werewolves that followed him, how he provided a safe environment for them to transform, and how his system approximated the effects of wolfsbane. However, I also reported that there was dissent amongst the pack, and that while I was sure Greer would never join Voldemort a few of the others, particularly Strenga and Freca, might consider it.

"They even mentioned Greyback," I said sadly, "The one they called Freca said that Greyback might be able to give them more freedom, and another, Strenga, he said Greyback could lead them to Glory. They seemed to resent that Greer keeps the pack hidden deep in the forrest away from humans. It was the idea of hiding and not being allowed to...to er..."

I found I couldn't look at the others while I spoke, because I knew they were all thinking about how I wasn't just observing werewolves, I was one of them.

"Not being allowed to attack humans, that bothered them the most."

"This sounds very interesting," remarked Dumbledore. "I wouldn't mind learning a bit more about your experience Remus."

"Er, of course, I don't mind," I said politely.

"Was there anything else you learnt?"

"Yes, er, Freca said, and these were his exact words -" I suddenly realised how odd that sounded given that wolves couldn't speak "-at least, er, in the language they use..." I felt myself blush and balled my hands into fists in frustration.

"Freca said that Greyback wouldn't be in Azkaban much longer," I said hastily trying to get to the end of my report. "I don't know what he meant by that..."

There was a murmur around the table.

"Do you have any idea who Freca is?" Tonks asked me and I shook my head.

"I'm not sure even Greer knows. I think Freca was on wolfsbane though."

"Well there aren't really that many people on wolfsbane," Hestia said. "Surely there's some way of finding out how many people have bought wolfsbane this month."

"Perhaps," said Kingsley, "wolfsbane is usually imported, we might be able to access the Minstry's import records."

"I could look up werewolf attacks," said Tonks. "Or get one of the trainees to do it. See what names come up, then we could cross reference it with wolfsbane purchases."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. "I think if Greyback has found some means of escaping Azkaban, there's a high change others have as well, so let's put a high priority on this. Let's find out who Freca is and what else he knows. Remus, I would like you to spend anther month with Greer."

I nodded.

"I understand Severus made wolfsbane for you last month is that correct?"

I nodded again.

"Well I'm sure it wont be too much trouble for him to make another month."

"Oh he's going to _love_ that," Sirius whispered sarcastically to me.

"Mm," I agreed.

"Where is Snivellus anyway?"

"He is unfortunately detained," replied Dumbledore, with a curt look at an embarrassed Sirius.

The last item on the meeting's agenda was who would take the children back to school. Although the Hogwarts Express ran in the holidays, we decided it would be safer to take them up early on the Knight bus. In the end, Tonks and I were the only ones free to accompany them. After the meeting I hung back in the dining room. Moody and Kingsley stayed back as well to discuss a potential Death Eater hideout in Kent, and Dumbledore stayed behind to talk to Sirius and Molly. I asked Tonks if she wanted to stay and have a cup of tea with me but she turned me down.

"I'd love to but I can't. I've got so much work to do." I nodded and picked my notes up from the table.

"So how did you hurt your eye?" I asked looking back at her bruised face. She gave an ironic smile.

"I was working on a case," she said.

"I see," I remarked, understanding why Tonks didn't want to speak about it in front of everyone.

"We've been after these two guys wanted for trafficking girls from Poland, and Dawlish and I thought we'd found the end point of whatever magical transport system they were using. We went to have a look around when we thought the place was empty, found a vanishing cabinet, but the two guys were there along with another suspect.

"They freaked out when they saw us and started trying to curse the bejesus out of us. They were charming things to fly at us, including a medium sized pine table and we were freezing them in the air. We managed to disarm them, and were about to arrest them, but then one on the bastards jumped on me! He was bloody massive as well. He tried to throttle me, I lost my wand. Dawlish was stuck fighting the other two. Luckily I'm half-decent in a scrap, so I got the guy off me. Then I knocked him out with an old cauldron lying in the corner.

"So I survive the fight uninjured but then, because I'm an idiot, I turned around and bashed straight into the table that was still hanging in the air from when I'd frozen it earlier."

Tonks rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She then gently touched her fingertips against the bluish purple bruising around her left eye.

"Still at least we got them," she added.

"I'm glad you're alright," I said. The idea of Tonks being in the same room as such violent detestable people made me very angry; and alright yes it had been the table Tonks had been less able to defend herself from, but that didn't diminish my desire to keep her as far away from danger as possible.

"I've got all the paperwork for that case to do now," Tonks explained. She rubbed her thumb across her bitten lip. I brushed some of her pink hair out off her forehead to uncover her eye.

"It looks painful," I said quietly.

"It's not so bad," said Tonks.

"What does a black eye feel like?" I asked and Tonks narrowed her eyes at me.

"You've never had one?" she asked and I laughed.

"No, I mean what does it feel like – does it have er, a texture?"

"Oh." Tonks bright blue eyes glittered. "It doesn't really feel like anything – well, I mean, it's sore, that's what it feels like, it doesn't have a texture to it. Or at least, its texture is the same as the rest of my skin."

"I guess that explains why you can't morph it away," I reasoned. Tonks could morph because features had feelings for her, if she could't feel a feature she could't change it.

"Yeah," confirmed Tonks. "I've really got to go." Tonks was already wearing her cloak so no-one in the room could see her take my hand.

"I don't want to though," she added quietly. I noticed Sirius walking towards us. Dumbledore must have left. I didn't even notice.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Tonks said brightly letting go of my hand. "Alright Sirius?"

Sirius gave Tonks a dark look.

"See you tomorrow Tonks," he said blankly before leaving the room.

"He's been like that all week," said Molly in response to my frown.

"I must admit, he seemed a bit gloomy when I came back this afternoon."

"It must be because the kids are going home," offered Tonks, "he's really liked having them around." This made perfect sense: when the kids left for Hogwarts, Sirius would be left alone in number twelve (save for Tonks and myself), and without the noise and the laughter filling the house it would once again become a prison for him.

"I'll speak to him," I assured the two women. I escorted Tonks to the door while Molly responded to Ron's bellow of "Muuuum! Where's my Chudley Cannon's T-shirt?"

Figuring Sirius would have retreated to his room I made my way upstairs, stopping only to have a look at Hermione's transfiguration question sheet.

"It's very good Hermione, have another look at question 7 though. Your explanation of genetic transformation is a bit confused. Try chapter 8 in Molecular Transfiguration. My copy is in the library."

Sirius was on his bed reading 'No Way Back', a book about a wizard seduced by the dark arts then driven to insanity by it; a brilliant novel, but very depressing. There was a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on his chest of drawers.

"You must stop drinking so much," I told him severely picking up the bottle. Sirius just ignored me.

"This book is quite good," he said instead.

"You've never read it before?"

"No. I was in prison when it came out in case you've forgotten," Sirius spat bitterly at me. I sighed and put the whiskey bottle down.

"Sorry," said Sirius less than a minute later.

"Ach, it's alright," I said. "Tonks said you've had the hump for a few days."

"To be honest Remus, I don't think there's much you can do about it."

"Is it because the kids are going back?"

"In a way, I suppose," confessed Sirius. "I hate being alone in this place."

After a few moments's patient waiting, Sirius explained why.

"It does things to my head. If it's not Kreacher hissing insults at me, or one of the portraits spitting at me, then it's memories that plague me. I can't walk through the corridors here, or go into any of the rooms without being reminded of something dreadful. When you're here it's alright, because I have a distraction; and when the rest of the Order are here the house seems different – like it has a new identity, and it's no so bad. But when it's just me..."

I didn't really know what to say. I offered to stay in London for the night instead of going back to Oxford, but Sirius assured me it wasn't necessary. The next day Sirius tried his best to appear upbeat, but those that knew him best couldn't fail to notice the unhappiness in his grey eyes. He wished the Weasleys warm farewells, and he gave Harry an encouraging smile and a hug. He also gave Harry James's mirror, in case Harry wanted to contact him. The night before, Snape had arrived at number twelve and announced that Dumbledore had asked _him_ to teach Harry occlumency, which Sirius and I both agreed wasn't the wisest decision Dumbledore had ever made. If anything could compete with Harry's hatred for Snape it was Snape's hatred for Harry. So Sirius gave Harry the mirror and told him to let him know if Snape was giving him a hard time (not that Sirius would really be able to do anything about it).

Once the kids had said their goodbyes Tonks and I marshaled them onto the Knight Bus. Tonks, whose black eye was looking a hundred times better thanks to some bruise-healing paste, had disguised herself as an elderly woman with tight grey curls, round eyes and an equally round face; the very same morph she had worn when I first met her in Strabane all those years ago. It felt oddly nostalgic to see it again. The journey back to Hogwarts didn't take long; I just about had time to convince Fred and George that the Order wasn't planning to send an army of Goblins to attack Honeydukes, they had just been grossly misinformed by their extendable ears (in fact Dumbledore had cast a nifty spell that disguised all Order conversations so that any outsider would hear complete nonsense).

When we arrived Tonks and I walked the kids up to the Hogwarts gates where we stopped to say goodbye. I felt another pang of nostalgia when I looked up at the snow-laden castle.

"Look after yourselves," I told them all realising for the first time how much I would miss them. I turned to Harry, and shook his hand. As I looked at his young face and the lightning bolt scar on his forehead I remembered Dumbledore's concerns about the link between Harry and Voldemort.

"And listen," I said seriously. "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all – Sirius included – want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," said Harry gravely. "See you, then."

Tonks and I watched Harry and his friends walk up towards the castle until we were satisfied they would make the journey safely, then we turned back towards the Knight Bus. I was about to board it when Tonks stopped me.

"Do you have to go back to Oxford straight away?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "I don't have to go back until this afternoon."

Tonk's unusually wrinkled face, turned towards Hogsmeade forrest as she thought for a moment.

"Do you want to walk down to Hogsmeade? You could floo to Oxford from there," she said.

"I could I suppose."

"It's a pretty walk and it would be nice to talk to you."

It was clear what Tonks wanted to talk about, and I wasn't keen to have that conversation so I hesitated.

"Look, are you and your granny gettin' on the bus or not?" the surly young bus conductor demanded. Tonks grinned at being called my granny, and I apologetically told the conductor that no, we were not. The purple bus vanished with a loud bang as Tonks and I started to walk towards Hogsmeade.

Hogsmeade forrest was the complete antithesis of the forrest in Yorkshire where I had spent the full moon. That forrest had been wild and dense and unwelcoming. Hogsmeade forest was a picture of minimalism in comparison; the floor was an unbroken carpet of white snow, the trees were tall black pillars, the only colour was the gold of the sunlight that shone in distinct beams through the trees, and Tonks of course, who had morphed back to her bubble-pink haired, spinach-green eyed, water-pale skinned self. It was very quiet as well, the only sound being that crunching noise of our feet on the snow. We talked about Tonks work for quite a while. Particularly how teaching the new recruit of hit wizards was going.

"It's quite fun actually," she told me while she walked with her hands in her pockets occasionally kicking up heaps of snow. "They've got some pretty strong ideas about some things though. Like the other day we were talking about what drives people to crime and I was trying to explain to them that sometimes people do bad things not because they are bad people, but just because their lives have been lacking in some respect. Like they've not had adequate education, or they've been let down by they parents or their government, which let's face it is pretty likely given the state our ministry is in. But the trainees, some of them anyway, were like, 'no, these people are lost causes, they need discipline'."

"Well, maybe their opinions will change as they come into contact with these people," I said.

"Yeah maybe, or maybe they wont. Still it's not my place to tell them what to think is it?"

"Probably not, no."

"I forget that sometimes..."

"I suppose it's just because you have quite strong ideas yourself," I said smiling at Tonks who blushed.

"Does that annoy you about me?" She tried her best not to appear anxious.

"Not at all."

"I've hardly seen you since Christmas." A disappointed crease formed between her eyes. "I've missed you."

"I know, I'm sorry I've just been very busy." I felt a swell of guilt.

"Yeah, I know. I was just worried you were avoiding me because..." Tonks couldn't hide a small smile when she thought about our kiss, and I didn't know whether to laugh or hex myself. "You aren't avoiding me aren't you?"

"No, I'm not avoiding you."

"Liar."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I just, it's just..." I looked towards the snow laden fir trees as if they would bale me out.

"It's just what?" Tonks's expression was stern but still somehow playful.

"Fine," I said petulantly. "The thing is, whenever I'm near you I want to kiss you" (now being no exception) "and you said I shouldn't unless I could do it without regret. I'm just doing what you told me."

"You're not doing what I want though!" Tonks moaned, still not looking particularly angry as obviously she still believed I would change my mind. "I wanted you to stop feeling regret, not to stop kissing me."

"Well, you should have been more specific," I joked. Tonks rolled her eyes at me. Then, before I knew it a snowball was flying at me from nowhere and hit me in the shoulder.

"What the hell?" I began, but then I noticed Tonks's wand in her hand. She grinned cheekily at me. Not wanting to decline the challenge I took out my own wand and charmed some snow to fly in her direction. Tonks darted out of the way and the snow hit the tree behind her. She bent down and grabbed some snow, as theres a tactile pleasure in throwing snowballs by hand, so I ran out of the way. Her snowball narrowly missed me as I darted behind a tree. I threw one back at her. It hit her thigh but she just laughed and continued to send snow in my direction.

"This is what we used to do as kids!" she yelled while pelting me with snow.

"Yes us too!" I shouted back as I gave as good as I got.

"Remus!" she called as I ran behind another tree. I leaned around the side of the tree to see her smiling at me from a few metres away. "Do you think if I went to school at the same time as you we'd have been friends?"

"Definitely," I said without hesitation. Tonks grinned with excited glee and threw another snowball at me. I threw one back at her then made a dash for a wider more shielding tree. Tonks threw a snowball at me as I ran and it hit me in the middle of my back. The surprise at being hit seemed to hinder my balance; I slipped on the snow and fell flat on my back.

"Remus!" I head Tonks cry, fear in her voice. I chuckled as I lay on the ground. The snow was soft enough to make quite a comfortable resting place. I heard Tonks's boots stamp into the snow, left right left right in quick succession. Then I saw her face appear above me, her eyes wide with concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied happily. "The snow broke my fall. I guess you're not the only one who's clumsy."

"Hey I'm not clumsy," Tonks insisted, "I'm gracefully challenged."

I grinned, grabbed Tonks's ankle and she immediately tumbled onto the snow next to me. We lay next to each other, laughing and looking at the azure sky through the trees. Tonks wriggled towards me so that she could lie with her body pressed against mine. I turned to look at her, my eyes drawn to her mouth. Just like always I wanted to kiss her. She realised what I was thinking and wriggled even closer, so that her head was resting on my shoulder and her arm reached across my chest. It was a mistake to let her get this close, but I hadn't the will power to push her away, it felt so nice.

"This is nice." Tonks apparently shared my sentiments. "But a bit cold."

"Yes, my arse is a bit chilly."

Tonks laughed then she raised herself up on her elbows and leant towards me intending to kiss me but I stopped her. Her happiness faded away quickly, she sat up and sighed.

"Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pulling away?"

I sat up and ran my hands, which were still slightly wet from the snowball fight, through my hair.

"I'm sorry, I just can't Tonks. I'm too old for you. I'm too dangerous."

"But that stuff doesn't bother me, it really doesn't."

I stood up and Tonks followed me. She looked sad and tired and I felt responsible.

"It would never work," I said sadly, wishing things were different. "It would just be...a mess. I will never make you happy."

"You don't know that," said Tonks with a touch of impatience.

"How could you be happy with a man thirteen years your senior?" I wished she could give me an answer. "How could you be happy with a man who hasn't got two sickles to rub together?"

"You think I care about _money_?"

"How could you be happy with a man who, once a month, turns into a monster with a tendency to tear people into bloody ribbons?"

"I know what I'm getting myself into," she insisted. I shook my head. How could she know? She had no idea what it was like.

"I do," she said again sensing my disbelief, then in a quiet almost uncertain voice she added: "I think it's worth it."

"You _don't_ know and it's _not_ worth it. How could it be? You'd have to live with this," I beat my fist hard against my chest, "with a...It's never going to go away, I will _always_ be like this -"

"I know!" Tonks's patience had worn thin. "I have thought about this."

"And it will only get worse," I continued, ignoring her. "I don't want you to have to look after -"

Tonks laughed with incredulity.

"Remus, you are thinking far t-"

"And what about your job? They would fire -"

"I don't -"

"Stop interrupting me!" I suddenly shouted, surprising even myself. A shocked and embarrassed silence followed. Tonks looked at me as if I had slapped her. I felt paralysed with shame.

"You didn't have to shout at me!" Her voice was shaking with anger or with hurt, I couldn't tell. My own voice trembled as I tried to apologise, but Tonks dissaparated before I could. She vanished before my eyes and I was left standing alone in absolute silence wondering how the mood had changed so quickly. One minute she was lying in my arms and the next she had disappeared in a rage. I covered my face with my hands and let out of cry of frustration. I was making such a mess of things. Sirius was right, I had been leading her on; but I was so torn. I couldn't really believe that Tonks wanted me, it was a dream really, one that I wanted to prolong and I found it hard to stop myself. But I had to make a decision now. I walked Hogsmeade by myself, and flooed to Oxford when I reached the Three Broomsticks.

I was supposed to stay in Oxford that night, but instead I returned to London. Number twelve was quieter than it had been for weeks, and it felt very uncomfortable. Sirius was reading by the fire in the drawing room. It was obvious from his expression that Tonks had told him about our fight. If the look on Tonks's face when I shouted at her wasn't enough to send me spiraling into self-loathing the serious and disapproving expression on Sirius's definitely was. He didn't even say anything, he looked at me, then turned back to his book. I nervously rubbed my left eyebrow, then put my hands in my pockets.

"Is she very angry with me?" I asked quietly. Sirius sighed and put his book down.

"I don't really know," he replied. "I think you've lost your chance with her though."

"I didn't mean to shout at her," I said sadly, sitting down on the opposite sofa to Sirius. "I just..." My words trailed off as there really was no excuse.

"I feel like I'm going insane," I confessed after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. "I can't stop thinking about her. Every thought I have, I wonder what she would think of it."

"Are you in love with her?" Sirius asked me calmly, and I squirmed.

"I...I er, I don't know."

"If you feel that strongly for her, why aren't you going for it? She wants to be with you too."

"I've told you a thousand times. I've told _her_ a thousand times. Somewhere down the line she'll resent the fact that I can't do so many things because of what I am...she'll resent _me_ for all the grief she'll get for being with me. I don't want to see that happen."

"But you don't know that will happen! And really Remus that's just a long winded way of saying you're afraid of it not working out."

"It's not just that. I don't want to make her unhappy. She'll have so much to put up with. She deserves better than that."

"You _are_ insane. Can you not understand, that maybe she _wants_ to put up with it all? That she _wants_ to make sacrifices for you? Just like we did. Just like James and I did becoming animagi for you."

I had never thought about it like that, and my mind struggled to grasp the similarity.

"That was different," I said uncertainly. "You weren't sacrificing anything exactly."

"We were risking our safety to hang out with a werewolf. How is that not a sacrifice?"

I felt fresh surges of guilt. Sirius was right, he and James made huge sacrifices for me.

"I never asked you to..."

"I know, Moony I know. You never would, which is why we did it. But can you not see, that it didn't matter to us...the risks I mean, they were worth it. You were worth it."

"I'm not," I insisted. "How could I be?"

"I'm not talking about this anymore," Sirius said with the same tone of impatience Tonks had used. "I'm fed up listening to someone whose supposed to be so clever refuse to listen to reason. Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be in Oxford tonight."

"I was, but I thought I'd come back just in case...just in case she was here so I could apologise."

"Mm, well she's not. She has a life you know."

"Unlike us."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

"Unlike us, " he agreed.

The next day the meaning of Freca's warning became clear. Ten death eaters escaped from Azkaban. The news was broken to Sirius and I very late on Monday night by Kingsley. Among those who escaped were Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, Algernon Rookwood, and Antonin Dolohov the wizard that had killed Molly's brothers Gideon and Fabian Prewitt and my father. When I heard he was free, I felt numb. I was so furious that he was even alive, that I couldn't process the idea of him walking around freely. Kingsley told us that Fudge was determined to blame the escape on Sirius, despite his insistence that there was no evidence whatsoever putting Sirius anywhere near Azkaban at the time of the escape. The escape was obviously engineered by the Dementors under the guidance and control of Voldemort. Dumbledore had been warning Fudge for months that this might happen, and now that Dumbledore had been proven right Fudge was once again using Sirius as a scapegoat. Sirius was livid. Kingsley's plan was to try and find some evidence that would give Sirius a solid alibi, but short of revealing Sirius's true location there wasn't much we could do.

An emergency Order meeting was called later that day, which meant I had a chance to appologise to Tonks. However, for once Tonks wasn't at the forefront of my mind, instead I thought of my father's murder. Dolohov had killed him was a curse that ripped apart his internal organs. My father, a historian who'd never hurt anyone, died in agony; drowned in his own blood. I was thinking about my father when I remembered his silver pocket watch that could answer yes or no to certain questions. I had left it somewhere and lost it. I couldn't believe I had been so careless. Furious at myself I returned to my home in Ireland and spent most of the day turning the house upside down looking for it. I never found it and I came back to London an hour before the meeting in an uncharacteristic rage.

"Sirius!" I yelled as soon as I stepped through the door. "Sirius where are you?"

"I'm here," replied Sirius poking his head round the Garden room door, "what's wrong?"

"Have you seen my pocket watch?" I demanded. I could see Arthur, his arm still in a sling, in the Garden room behind Sirius, but I wasn't really in the mood to say hello.

"No," Sirius replied, still not quite sure what the fuss was about. "Where did you leave it?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be looking for it would I?!"

"Alright! Calm down. Have you tried the drawing room-"

I started marching up the stairs before Sirius had a chance to finish. I head him call after me, to warn me about something, but I wasn't interested. I found out what it was when I entered the drawing room. Tonks was there, cross legged on one of the sofas with a wad of parchment on her lap. She looked at me with some surprise. Like a deflating ballon, my temper faded away.

"You alright?" Tonks asked.

"I was looking for my watch," I replied sheepishly.

"Is this it?" Tonks held up my father's pocket watch and relief flooded through me. I rushed towards her and thankfully took back the watch.

"Thank you. Where did you find it?"

"It was down the back of the sofa, where everything is. Are you sure you're alright?"

It was hard to lie to Tonks. Eventually I gave in and explained to to her that Dolohov was my father's murderer.

"Your father died when you were at school, didn't he?" Tonks said with kindness and sympathy.

"Yes, when I was just about to start my last year."

"Sirius told me. He said you don't talk about your father very much. Why is that?"

"I don't know. I don't like to."

Tonks looked at me with another probing expression, I could tell she wanted to ask me why but was worried about sounding noisy. Given how poorly I had been treating her, I felt I owed her the truth.

"My father was friends with the Prewitt brothers, Molly's brothers," I began. "They ran a publishing company that published a lot of my father's books. They were members of the Order, and being hunted by Voldemort's followers. My father didn't really know about the Order but he volunteered to be a secret keeper for them. Dolohov found out. He and his friends attacked us – my mother and father and me – they tortured my mother, and my father gave the information to them. My father felt racked with shame at having exposed the Prewetts so rushed to warn them. He was killed trying to defend them, then they were killed just a week later."

Tonks breathed deeply and looked at me with empathetic eyes. Then she looked down at my hands which were clasped together in my lap apparently unable to think of anything to say.

"What was your father like?" she asked.

"He was always very calm, and quiet most of the time. But when it was just him and my mother and I...that was when he was most happy and most himself. He was a great dad. I miss him. I think that's why I don't talk about him."

"I'm sorry," Tonks whispered. I smiled in thanks, but knew that I was the one who should be apologising.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," I said. "I didn't mean it, I was just...being an idiot."

"It's okay," Tonks said. Then she sighed and looked at me with an apologetic expression. "But I've been thinking...I don't want to fight with you. This is supposed to be fun. So maybe we should just forget it."

She looked as though she had decided this was for the best, that even though she thought fondly of me, all things considered a relationship with me was too difficult. Even though that was exactly what I had been saying all along – even though that was the truth – that Tonks thought it felt like someone grabbing my heart and giving it a brisk and unpleasant squeeze.

"Tonks, if it wasn't for...I would say yes in an instant," I whispered. Tonks looked at me with a pained expression.

"Why don't you?" she said suddenly. "You are thinking far too much. You're worrying about things that might not even happen."

"That's what Sirius said."

"He has his moments," said Tonks with a fond grin. I still felt completely torn. I stood up, having always found it easier to think on my feet. My heart had been beating quickly all day, the Azkaban escape was very stressful, but now it was racing. I rubbed my chin in thought then turned to Tonks.

"Do you not care about the dangers? Or what people will think?" I asked.

"Do I ever care what other people think?" was Tonks's stylish reply. "Say I can't go outside without people throwing eggs at me, why would I care? I could just stay inside cuddled up with you."

I could hardly believe what Tonks was saying. That sort of thing just didn't happen to me. I had no idea what to do. Sensing my indecision Tonks stood up.

"I've had such bad luck with women," I told her. "Sirius says it is my own fault."

"Well, judging by the last few weeks...yeah, I'd say he's right."

Tonks was smiling at me now with her hands casually in the back pockets of her jeans. Maybe I had been insane for trying to resist this. I walked towards her.

"I suppose I'm never going to know if my luck is about to change, unless I take a risk," I said with a growing smile.

"Very logical," Tonks said.

"And you're not going to wait forever," I said running my hand through Tonks's hair. "If I don't act soon I'll miss my chance."

"Also true," Tonks said slightly breathlessly, "though with you I'd probably wait slightly longer than usual."

I slid my hands onto her waist. She licked her lips so she knew what was coming. With a desperate, defeated moan I kissed her.

I still felt apprehension. She was far too perfect for me. Far too young, far too beautiful, far more than I deserved. But I couldn't help myself anymore. I was in love with her. She ran her fingers through my hair and down my back, and again although I was hesitant I couldn't stop myself mirroring her caresses. When I let my hands wonder further than they had before she pulled away to smile and laugh a little. I worried that she was laughing at me: did I seem amateurish? But as if to silence my very thoughts she just kissed me again and pulled me even closer.

After a few moments, she pulled me back towards the sofa. Soon we were tangled together caressing as much of each others bodies as we dared and competing to see who could give the sexiest kiss. To my immense disappointment, we were interrupted. I heard people conversing in the hallway downstairs then someone calling my name.

"Remus? You about? I need your help," Arthur shouted. I stopped kissing Tonks, but made no attempt to release her from underneath me. I looked at her, enjoying her tousled hair, reddened lips and the sparkle in her eyes that suggested she'd been up to no good. I didn't want to stop.

Should I just not reply? I thought. Maybe Arthur would go away...

"Remus?" He called again, and I groaned. I gave Tonks an apologetic expression. She smiled in understanding, although she had a regretful look in her eyes.

"I'm in the drawing room Arthur," I politely called to him. I heard him start to make his way up the stairs. I paused, wondering whether I could risk one more kiss, then decided against it and pulled myself off the sofa. I tucked my shirt back in and Tonks morphed her hair to very short to save her the hassle of untangling the mess I had made of her previous hairstyle. She gave me a sheepish grin then -

"Oh!" she exclaimed stepping towards me, "one of my earrings is caught in your hair, hang on."

She reached to somewhere beside my right ear and unhooked her earring, accidentally tugging out one of two of my hairs in the process.

"Ow," I said then Arthur suddenly stepped in. Tonks took her hand away from my hair and shoved the earring in her pocket, while I felt a blush coming on.

"Oh, hello Tonks," Arthur said slightly awkwardly. Tonks smiled but didn't say anything. I didn't either and I waited for Arthur to explain why he needed my help. "I've er, been wondering round the department of mysteries today and thought I saw some signs of spell-work, marks on the walls and things. I took some photos, wondered if you'd have a look."

"Of course Arthur, certainly," I said. I glanced at Tonks almost asking her permission.

"I'll see you at the meeting," Tonks said picking up the papers she had left on the sofa. She smiled at me before she left and I felt a pleasant giddiness in my stomach. Arthur laid his photographs on the piano so I walked over to look at them with him. I tried to concentrate as Arthur explained each one, but found it damn near impossible as my mind kept drifting back to what had just happened. I had to talk to her about it. My mind felt like someone had just shook it scattering my thoughts all over the place. I silently wished for Arthur to hurry up so that I could go and find her before the Order meeting. But 7.30 came around before Arthur had finished. We made our way down to the kitchen where the meeting was being held. Everyone had already sat down and the only free seat was as far away from Tonks as was possible. I smiled at her in a disappointed kind of way and she gave me a subtle shrug.

The meeting was relatively brief with most of us being assigned new missions to either track down the escaped Death Eaters or protect their likely targets. When the meeting ended, while everyone started to leave – some to start their missions immediately – Tonks sought me out.

"Remus," she said simply, biting her lip evocatively.

"Tonks," I sighed, succumbing to her gesture.

"Nymphadora! Let's go! Do you think Death Eaters postpone missions for friendly chats?" Moody suddenly cried spoiling the mood. During the meeting Tonks had agreed to join Moody on a sweep of known Death Eater haunts, I didn't realise they were starting tonight.

"Mad-Eye what have I told you about calling me that!" Tonks yelled angrily at him.

"Knew it would get your attention," boasted Moody with a smirk. "Come on, Remus will still be here when you get back."

"But-" protested Tonks looking desperately at me. I shrugged with defeat.

"Bye," I said meekly. Tonks groaned and sulkily followed Mad-Eye upstairs. I sat down and let my shoulders sink. The Order was more important, but I had so wanted to talk to her. The rest of the Order left, leaving myself Sirius and Bill in the kitchen.

"What's up with you?" Sirius asked as he offered Bill (who like the rest of his family had also been shaken by Dolohov's escape) a drink.

I was about to invent an excuse when Tonks suddenly appeared at the kitchen door. I looked up at her questioningly, but she didn't say anything. She glanced at Sirius and Bill, flashed a slightly mad grin at no-one in particular then rushed over and gave me a kiss full on the mouth. It didn't last very long but still left me grinning like a besotted moron.

"So you don't forget!" she said breathlessly before running from the room to join Mad-Eye.

"Bloody Hell! How long has that been going on?" Bill exclaimed in awe.

"Yeah Moony?" added Sirius who was staring at me his face a mix of accusation and pride. I opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish, and when my brain still couldn't come up with any explanation I just shrugged.

"Things have become...complicated," I said cryptically.

"Let me fill you in Bill," Sirius said noticing the look of utter bewilderment still plastered on his face. "Moony has had the hots for my little cousin since probably the dawn of time, but despite her actually telling him – wait no, _yelling_ at him, that she has no issue with the furry little problem, Moony has refused her _multiple_ invitations to get it on...perhaps until now," and with that last remark Sirius turned to me.

I shook my head and Sirius scowled.

"Er...Well, I don't know I-" I mumbled.

"You kissed her," Sirius stated and I squirmed uncomfortably. "And didn't she tell you not to kiss her again unless you could do it without regret?"

"What? How did you know that?"

"She told me," Sirius answered as if it were obvious.

"What else has she told you?"

"That's not important. You kissed her, so you've got to take it seriously now. You have to ask her out."

"I don't have-"

"Moony!"

"Jeysus okay! Alright, I'll – oh but, it's such a mess-"

"No, no, don't think about that. You're not asking her to marry you or anything, just ask her out for dinner."

"I'm broke. I can't afford to take her out for dinner – this is such a terrible idea..."

"Cook for her then. Birds love that," Bill chipped in.

I made several strange noises of protest, and Sirius glared at me.

"You have to! You can't keep stringing her along!"

"Alright, I will."

Sirius cheered, which was a strange sound to hear considering the day's events. But it was like this in the last war: joy and sadness were frequently pressed up against each other. It was exhausting, but we learnt that you had to make the most of the joy when it came, because it tended not to be around for very long.

Extra note: balancing all the emotions of Tonks and Lupin in this chapter was a freaking nightmare. I hope it seems realistic and not too all over the place or too rushed (there was a lot to jam in). Hopefully the next few chapters wont be so stressful because they are together now (yay) at least for a little while...


	63. A Proper Date

I feel a bit weird putting sex in it, because it's Harry Potter, which is a kids book, so in my head it's like a sexless universe. But sex is quite meaningful to Lupin so his views on his sex life are important. And, when you think about it, Lupin and Tonks are the only characters who definitely have sex in the books because they are the only characters that have a child during the books. AND they are adults in the 21st century so they would...

Ahem...anyway, moving on...

NOTE: There's some stuff about Fidelius charms in this chapter. Fidelius charms are notoriously hard to make sense of. In this chapter is my own take on how they work, not sure it entirely makes sense but hey, it's magic, it doesn't have to. Also it was fun to mess with Tonks's mind.

63 A Proper Date, With Flowers and Everything

I was in good spirits the next day, which some might have thought odd given that several key figures in the last war were at large once again, a number of which had personal reasons for wanting me dead. The prospect of spending time with Tonks without a cloak of guilt hanging on my shoulders was incredibly exciting. After Sirius had convinced me to take a chance with her, I could hardly sleep. I lay awake thinking about what I'd say when I next saw her, what our first date would be like. Naturally my thoughts quickly descended into rather erotic imaginings, but that was surely part of the fun. When I woke up number twelve was as full and noisy as it was when Harry and his friends were living there. Many of the Order were there making use of the library and drawing room to conduct research and collate intel in safety.

Emmeline had been making sound recordings of the restricted and dangerous books sections in the Bowman Wright library, an idea inspired by muggle closed circuit television, so I spent the morning helping her filter out the useless recordings. It was a little tedious at times because Emmeline had collected hours of recordings, but it was also quite amusing: we heard a fight between a husband and wife about what kind of bread they should be buying, a young man trying to seduce an obviously uninterested older woman and a student of herbology who had just had an epiphany about rosemary and had decided to celebrate by singing the star spangled banner in the voice of kermit the frog. Of course we had to erase all of those recordings to protect the innocent people. We erased over 90% of them. Of the ones we saved, we were only really interested in three of them. On one of them we were certain we could hear Gawain Robards, an auror, mentioning an Azkaban breakout, which was odd because Emmeline made the recordings three days before the escape; the second was Fabian Jugson, the unlicensed dualist, who seemed to be discussing illegal items purchased for 'important people' from Borgin and Burks. The last wasn't a particularly incriminating conversation but the voice itself was suspect, to me it sounded like Peter Pettigrew, the man who killed my friends and sent another to prison for twelve years.

"Are you sure Remus?" Emmeline had asked me doubtfully when I told her who I thought it was. "Are you sure it's him?"

"Yes. That pathetic wheeze, that _irritating_ nasal twang...it's definitely him," I hissed roughly scratching the back of my hands leaving red marks in between the white scars. Emmeline licked her lips, looked at me with concern, then transferred the recording to a new blank record with a charm she had invented.

"Don't let Sirius hear it," I told Emmeline seriously, and she nodded with understanding.

At lunch time I received three letters; one from Snape telling me that he would make wolfsbane for the March full moon, it was too late for me to start taking it in February as I had already missed a week's medication. The second was from professor Hawthorne. He was please to report that all the spells we had cast over Oxford were working well, and he would like me to write a paper on it that he would try and get published in the next supernatural science journal. The last letter was from Tonks.

_Work is manic. Been rushing around the country chasing leads. Think I've got apparation-sickness. Strongly suspect I've left part of my pancreas in a field somewhere. Wish I was with you instead. I've doodled a little picture of your nose on one of the witness statements. It's making me want to give you an eskimo kiss. _

Tonks had also provided the picture of my nose she had drawn. It was a very good likeness, she'd even got the scar that arches across it. Underneath the nose she had drawn a little cartoon of her self. She had enchanted the cartoon so that it gave me a tiny thumbs up before a little speech bubble appeared bearing the words: "Nice Schnoz!" I laughed and after carefully folding it, put the letter and the nose-portrait into my top pocket. At that point, just as I had taken a bite out of my second sandwich, Sirius walked into the kitchen.

"Dung's told me he's seen Cassandra Yaxley in a Hag's pub in Bristol," he said as he grabbed the half-full coffee pot and poured himself a cup.

"Already? I would have thought they would have been keeping a low profile this soon after the escape," I remarked.

"Mm, perhaps Dung's mistaken, as he often is," Sirius said sipping his coffee. "Would it be bad form to irish up this coffee?"

"Yes Sirius." I gave him a warning glare and he shrugged in defeat. Sirius took his wand from his pocket and span it deftly in his fingers. Then holding it with his palm facing upwards, which was an unusual wand position often only used by talented wizards who wanted to show off, pointed it at the record player by the fireplace and started playing the Beatles Come Together.

"So how're things with my little cousin?" he asked. "Got in her knickers yet?"

I decided not to honour Sirius's crude question with an answer. Anyway, later that day sometime after dinner, Sirius got to see for himself how things were, because Tonks stopped by headquarters along with some of the others. She was wearing her hair shortish and jet black with pale skin and spinach green eyes. She was dressed in jeans, boots and a slightly tatty leather coat which she took off after she had stumbled out of the fireplace and shaken the soot out of her hair. Underneath her coat she was wearing a jumper that was deliberately too short so a strip of silky smooth midriff was free to feel the air against it. While the others exchanged hellos and how-are-yous, Tonks quietly sidled up to me.

"Hello," she said with a sultry smile.

"Hello," I said with what I hoped was a suggestive smirk. Barely a second later and she was snatched away from me by Moody who wanted inside information on the Azkaban escape. Tonks and her team had been frenetically rushing around the country investigating every clue and every rumour ever since she clocked in at six that morning. Most rumours turned out to be useless; and with the ones that didn't, the aurors arrived too late to make an arrest, the Death Eaters having moved on hours before. Tonks saw this as further evidence that someone in the department was leaking information, keeping the Death Eaters one step ahead. The trouble was there were a lot of people in the law enforcement department, aurors, hit wizards, clerks, managers, lawyers; any of them could be spies. Tonks worried that if the spy was one of her superiors she would find it difficult to accuse them without risking her job or worse exposing herself as a spy for the Order. Kingsley worried that the informant might not even know he was one: in the first war many ministry workers were imperiused, or had their minds read, and acted as agents without even knowing it. Ultimately, what this meant was that Kingsley and Tonks didn't trust any of their colleagues.

"I want to conduct an internal investigation, try and fish out of the mole – but to do that I need to get permission from Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the auror department," Kingsley told us as Bill made everyone some tea.

"Could very well be him, couldn't it?" finished Mad-Eye with an angry stomp of his walking stick. "I could tell that department was going downhill before I left. Too many managers and beurocracy. You don't even know your own partner there's so much red-tape between you and him."

"Scrimgeour wouldn't be the mole surely?" Tonks looked at Moody and Kingsley, her two mentors, with a worried expression. "He seems a decent bloke."

"I don't think it's Scrimgeour," said Kingsley.

"Can't be sure though – the Dark Lord's tempted better men," interjected Mad-Eye. Kingsley shrugged and looked defeated.

"Perhaps I will still suggest an investigation to him," he said after sighing and picking up the tea Bill had made for him. "If he proposes an investigation himself, that would be at least some assurance that it's not him."

"Do you not have any idea where any of the Death Eaters are then?" Bill then asked.

"We have ideas yes, just nothing concrete," replied Kingsley. "We've applied for a warrant to search Malfoy Manor as several of the Death Eaters that have escaped are related to him by blood or marriage."

"Isn't that a bit of an obvious hiding place though?" said Sirius.

"It's very well fortified, and has lots of hidden rooms," Kingsley said.

"But they are probably making their way to You-Know-Who's side now," explained Tonks, "and if _he_ doesn't want to be found then we have no chance."

"It's true Voldemort has some pretty powerful magic at his disposal," Sirius acknowledged sadly, "but not all of his followers are as clever – one of them might slip up."

"Actually one of the Goblins said something interesting today," said Bill. "His cousin has gone missing."

"Who is his cousin?" Sirius asked.

"He makes magical jewellery, watches I think," explained Bill. "Gaius the Crafty is his name. He lives in the Goblin mining village not far from Hogwarts."

Although not an official meeting, we sat at the kitchen table and discussed the Goblin's disappearance along with other Order business until late into the night. When Kingsley, Bill and Moody decided to return home to their families, pretty French Girlfriends or increasingly large collection of foe-glasses, Tonks loitered underneath the window by the kitchen sink. Yellow light from the street above shone through the grimy window and danced across her skin, drawing my attention once again to that strip of bare flesh above the waistband of her jeans. I walked towards her and she gave me a welcoming smile.

"Isn't it a bit cold for a bare navel?" I asked and when no-one was looking I gently ran my hand along her smooth warm skin.

"It is," confessed Tonks. "But if it wasn't bare you wouldn't touch it."

I chuckled as Tonks gave me a very suggestive smile.

"Would you like to have dinner with me Tonks?" I asked with quiet confidence.

"Go on a date with you, you mean? A proper one, where you'll pick me up at seven and bring me flowers."

"Yes. Do you not like that sort of thing?"

Tonks rolled her eyes and gave me a playful shove.

"I'd love to," she then said. "I'm free tomorrow."

"Great." I looked away from Tonks so she couldn't see how big my smile was or how giddy I felt.

"What are we going to do?" she asked stepping close to me and touching her fingers against my hand.

"It's er, it's a surprise," I said, hoping Tonks wouldn't realise that I actually hadn't planned anything yet. Tonks might have worked it out though because she laughed.

"As long as I'm with you, I don't mind," she murmured softly. She leant towards me and I wondered is this what she had in mind for tomorrow...

"Oi!" Sirius suddenly yelled. "Don't get all lovey-dovey on me, it's only just midnight and I've got insomnia so I need you to keep me company for at least the next four hours."

Tonks and I exchanged grins and stepped away from each other.

"I'm not staying up that late Sirius," I told him.

"Not even for some hard liqueur that's banned in most European countries," said Sirius shaking a bottle of reddish liquid in an unlabelled bottle. "Really, I think they use it as fertiliser in Latvia."

"We're not drinking that," Tonks said magically summoning the bottle from Sirius's hands.

"Is that that port we tried with Sturgis?" I asked pointing accusingly at the bottle.

"No, this is something else," Sirius said reaching towards Tonks probably to try and snatch it back, but Tonks vanished the bottle before he could. Sirius frowned at the two of us.

"Is this some kind of intervention?" Sirius asked. Tonks and I didn't answer, but we made sure Sirius drank only tea for the rest of the evening. While the three of us talked and joked, I was struck again by the strange dichotomy of emotions this last week had presented us with. When Sirius had fallen asleep, which happened sooner than he expected, his head resting on pillow Tonks had kindly conjured for him, I shared my thoughts with her. She confessed she had also been ricochetting between happy and sad, anxious and excited.

"Don't feel guilty about it Remus," she said. "It's just because good and bad things have happened at the same time."

Tonks chair was as close to mine as it could be and she was learning against me, her head resting on my shoulder while I had my arm around her.

"I don't feel guilty," I said, but as I said it I questioned its truth.

"Don't you?" she asked. "I think I do a bit. Everything at work is just so...and with the Order too. It feels like everything we were afraid of happening is starting to happen. People going missing, Death Eaters on the loose again, and Fudge is still screwing everything up...This is exactly how we thought it would start. And I'm actually really freaking scared."

I gently pulled Tonks a little closer to me.

"But then I remember that we've got a date tomorrow," Tonks continued laughing in a slightly disbelieving way, "and for a moment I don't care about anything else."

"Well, like you said, good and bad things have happened at the same time," I assured her. Tonks sighed thoughtfully, then she turned to me with a soft expression.

"I should probably go home," she said, her tone suggesting she didn't really want to. "It's really late."

"You could..." I murmured nervously, "you could...stay. If you like."

Rather than answer my question, Tonks kissed me. I let myself get lost in the moment, emboldened by how warm her body felt underneath my hands, but sadly the moment was short lived.

"I'd love to Remus, I really would," Tonks said, after she had pulled away from me, leaving me breathless and desperate for more. "But I have to get up at six tomorrow..."

I sighed as my eyes darted over her face taking in every beautiful inch of it.

"I understand," I said, affectionately rubbing her shoulder. Tonks beamed back at me. She looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't quite find the right words.

"I'm so glad we're doing this," she said eventually.

"Yeah me too," Sirius suddenly said. Tonks and I turned to watch him groggily pull himself up. "I don't think I could have put up with Remus pining after you for a second longer."

Tonks headed home and from that moment, seeing her again the next night was all I could think about. I went to sleep dreaming about it and spent all of the next day planning what we would do. Money was tight so I was going to follow Bill's advice and cook something for her. Order headquarters was about the worst venue for a romantic evening I could think of, except for perhaps Azkaban prison, so I'd take her home to Ireland. That meant that I had to tidy up a bit. As I'd been spending most of my time at number twelve my home in Ireland had become a dumping ground for unwashed clothes, books, travelling bags and dust. I did my best to make it look presentable, but just as I could never manage to make myself look anything other than 'shabby' no matter what I did my house always looked a little on the 'lived in' side.

One thing I did wonder about was sex. Obviously I wasn't expecting anything to happen, but I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if things did go that way. I was a bit nervous to tell the truth. It had been quite a while and it was Tonks, she was special, so it had to be good. Sirius, being the kind and generous fellow he was tried to give me some unsolicited advice.

"Do you remember where everything goes?" he jokingly asked me.

"Shut up Sirius," I replied as Sirius sniggered uncontrollably. I checked my pocket watch then slipped it into my pocket along with the message Sirius had written for Tonks. This message was the reason I had stopped at number twelve on the way to pick Tonks up: as my home was under a fidelius charm now, Sirius, my secret-keeper needed to reveal the secret to Tonks.

"If you get too excited just think about Delores Umbridge," he then said with a grin that showed off every one of his teeth. I shuddered.

"Sirius I didn't ask for, nor do I want, your advice," I told him. Then well aware of the contradiction I asked: "do I look okay?"

"You look a bit proper, but that always happens when you try to look neat, but you look good," Sirius said. I hummed in thought, and ran my hand through my hair. I had a look at myself in the mirror in the hall. With slight despair I tucked my greying hair behind my ears and fingered the scar that ran over my nose.

"Right, well..." I mumbled to myself as I shoved on my boots. "I better go."

I made my way to the front door while Sirius followed me, giggling the whole way. At the door I put on my coat and breathed deeply to try and settle my racing heart.

"It will be fine!" Sirius assured me. "Just don't do what you did with Katrina Kvitova and tell her you're only going out with her because everyone else turned you down."

"Hey! That is _not_ what I said and you're taking it completely out of context!" I insisted while Sirius laughed. "Besides, it's not true in Tonks's case..."

"Go on, get!" Sirius said slapping me hard on the back of the shoulder. Sirius opened the front door and I stepped out into Grimmauld Place. "Have fun!" Sirius closed the door and with one last nervous brush of my hair I disapparated. I nearly splinched myself because I realised I'd forgotten something half-way through my journey. Luckily I made it to the bottom of Tonks's building in one piece. Immediately I dissapparated back to number twelve. Sirius let me back into the house with a confused and amused smile.

"Forgot the bloody flowers!" I explained rushing back into the house and down to the kitchen where I had left them. I grabbed the flowers and left number twelve for the second time, Sirius's inane bark-like laugh following me into the street.

When I arrived outside Tonks's building for the second time, I paused a few minutes before I rang the bell. As I waited I laughed to myself, half form nerves half from excitement. Then I cleared my throat and rang the bell. A few seconds later, Tonks told me the door was open and invited me up to her flat. When she opened the door she greeted me with a squeal.

"Oh my god! You _actually_ brought flowers!" she exclaimed pointing at the small bunch of white daffodils I had in my hand.

"Well you did ask me too," I defended willing myself not to blush. Still laughing at me, Tonks invited me in, she took the flowers from me and skipped into her untidy kitchen to try and find something to put them in. Meanwhile I wandered into her living room and nosily looked through her sketchpad to see if she had added any new drawings. The was a very beautiful one of a woman sleeping, and another of an old man with twinkling eyes.

"I know I've got a vase here somewhere!" I head Tonks yell. I left the sketchbook where I had found it on the coffee table and turned to see if I could offer Tonks some assistance. She was ransacking her cupboards, knocking pans onto the floor and spilling cornflakes as she went.

"Ah ha!" she suddenly declared, pulling a glass vase from a cupboard full of mugs and biscuits. She had barely got a hold of it when she accidentally dropped it. I grimaced as it smashed. Tonks rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand.

"Reparo," she said almost lazily and the vase magicked back together. I walked towards the kitchen and watched Tonks fill the vase with water and carefully place the flowers in it.

"I've broken this vase so many times," she told me. "You can see it's got scars from where I've repaired it."

She pointed to the thin fracture lines that streaked across the vase and criss-crossed over each other.

"I kind of like it," Tonks remarked. "Makes it look arty."

Tonks lifted the flowers and walked past me to put them on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Do they look nice there?" she asked me. Hardly even looking at them, and gazing at Tonks instead, I said yes.

"I like your new drawings," I said pointing at her sketchpad.

"Thanks," Tonks said. There was a rather long silence during which Tonks smiled expectantly at me. "Shall we go?" I asked eventually.

"Is what I'm wearing okay?" Tonks asked me. Thinking that as she was only going to my house and hence could have worn anything, I answered her question in a very offhand way.

"Yes it's fine," I said with a shrug. I immediately realised I'd missed an opportunity to pay her a compliment, an obvious dating faux pas. I grimaced. "Er I mean..." Fearing any compliment I gave now would sound contrived my words trailed off into nothing. Tonks didn't seem bothered however and just laughed. It was a shame I missed the opportunity to compliment her though, because she looked lovely. She was wearing a very pretty navy blue dress which buttoned up at the front and black tights. Her hair was short, messy and chocolate brown, here eyes a deep purple-blue, her nose nearly it's normal shape and her lips just goddam delicious as always. She skipped towards the small army of shoes and boots that had gathered around the bottom of her bookshelf. She selected a pair of those shoe-boot things that looked great on long slender legs like Tonks's but weren't terribly practical for trudging through snow, which we would have to do as soon as we got to Ireland.

"Er, you might be better off in these ones actually," I suggested gently pointing at the much studier boots Tonks usually wore in the winter. Tonks cocked her eyebrow at me. "I um, I thought I would er, make dinner for you, and we have to walk thought the snow a bit to get to the house."

Tonks half smile turned into a full one, while I worried I had made a bad decision.

"Is that awfully dull of me?" I asked anxiously. "I just, I don't know, I thought it would be nice..."

Tonks considered me for a few minutes. She looked like a thousand thoughts were running through her head and I longed to know what they were, but she didn't tell me. Instead she kicked of the shoe her left foot was half-way into and picked up one of the boots I had indicated. She grinned and gave the boot a little shake, to emphasise that she was happy to put them on. She also grabbed a thick wooly scarf and her coat.

"Right, now you need to read this," I said pulling a small piece of parchment from my pocket, "otherwise you wont see my house."

"What?" Tonks asked confused.

"It's from my secret-keeper," I explained. "He has to tell you where I live."

"But I know where you live. I've been there."

"Think about it for a moment," I teased. "_Do_ you know where I live?"

Tonks paused and thought, and suddenly her eyes grew wide.

"Bloody Hell!" she exclaimed. "That's so _weird_! I don't! I can't- I...don't know..."

She looked damn cute when she was bewildered.

"I remember a house," she assured me, while I chuckled. "I can picture it in my head so clearly. I mean, I know you _used_ to live there! I know it was your parent's house. But when I ask myself is that where you live now? I literally have no idea..." Tonks shook her head with disbelief at the astonishing blank her mind presented her with when she asked herself if she knew where I lived.

Fidelius charms were strange things. The hardest thing about them, I think, is choosing the right secret to protect. When I decided to use one, I couldn't place the location of Springhill Farm under a fidelius charm because this had never been a secret: a lot of people knew where Springhill Farm was. So the only thing I could do was make the fact that I still lived there and could be found there from time to time a secret. This meant that people like Tonks, who had been to my house before, could imagine my home and might even believe I lived there, but they could never _know_ it; they lacked the psychological certainty that comes with knowledge. Until the secret was revealed to her, Tonks would never be sure.

"You do live there don't you?" she asked me. I shrugged in defeat. As I wasn't the secret keeper it was simply impossible for me to say yes or no, even though, as I was in on the secret, I knew the answer.

"You can't tell me!" Tonks exclaimed happily.

"You must have come across a fidelius charm before?" I asked her. "What about with headquarters?"

"That's different, I'd never been there before it was the subject of a secret. I've never had a fidelius charm actually mess with my mind before."

I handed Tonks the parchment and she unfolded it to read Sirius's message informing her that Remus Lupin could be found at Springhill Farm.

"See I _knew_ you lived there," Tonks said after she had read the message.

"No you didn't," I corrected her. She smiled then took my hand.

"What's that for?" I asked her.

"Aren't we going to go?" she said. "Side along apparation right? I don't quite know where to apparate too."

"Yes, of course." I closed my fingers around her hand and warmth spread from the centre of my chest to my fingertips. Being able to hold her hand was a singular delight.

We dissapperated from her flat and arrived with a faint pop at the top of my garden at Springhill farm. The sky was overcast sadly so it was quite dark. Fortunately I had had the foresight to hang a large lantern from one of the trees at the edge of the wood which backed onto the garden. Tonks and I stood in it's golden glow as she took in her surroundings. It was a good deal colder than London and absolutely silent. Tonks took hold of my arm and huddled next to me.

"It's a bit scary," she whispered and I laughed.

"Ach away on!" I said, "you're an auror, you're just pretending."

"Shut up bastard," Tonks retorted elbowing me in the ribs, "I'm using it as an excuse to get close to you."

I sniggered as I pulled out my wand and held it in my left hand so that I could cuddle Tonks with my right.

"In all seriousness though," Tonks added looking around into the black, "where are we?"

"At the top of the garden," I told her. "I've enchanted the house so that you can't apparate any closer than here. The house is just across the field and then down a little hill. You'll see it when we get to the cow shed."

"Your garden has a field in it? And you said you were poor."

I laughed and pointed my wand in the rough direction of the cow shed.

"Lumos," I called, but rather than keep the wand light attached to my wand I gave my wand a flick and sent a little ball of light towards the cow shed. It hit the lamp that hung at the nearest corner of the shed and glowed there lighting the first part of our path. I relit my wand and started to guide Tonks down through the garden. When we got to the cow shed I lit the rest of the lamps that hung along the front of it. Once they were all lit Tonks and I could just about make out the edges of the 'field'. It wasn't quite big enough to be a field as half of it had been sold on to the farm next door, but that's what we – that is my mother father and me – used to call it. From the cow shed, which was built on the highest point of the field, you could see the house, nestled into the side of the hill with the snow-laden garden sloping up around it.

"Oh I see, so we're at the top of the hill here?" said Tonks.

"That's right."

Tonks stood back from me to admire the view. In the daylight you could see for miles. At night you could see the lights from Alainferas, the village where all my cousins lived, and away out in the distance you could see the lights from the cars on the main road that lead to Strabane. Tonks sighed contentedly a cloud of her breath forming in front of her face. I took her hand again and led her past the cow shed, across the field and down to the zig-zagging path that led to the house. This part of the garden was rather steep, and with Tonks's limited proficiency for coordination it made for a slightly dangerous journey.

"It's a bit slippy down here," I warned Tonks. Despite the warning she fell at least four times. I wondered after the third time if she was doing it on purpose just so I would have to catch her.

As we walked I described what the garden was like in the day time.

"There are flower-beds and things on this side, and over on that side are the vegetables," I explained. "It's a little unkept unfortunately. I haven't had time to take care of it. The chickens used to live down there behind the kitchen, but I had to sell them when the Order regrouped."

We reached the small flat part directly behind the house and I stopped to check Tonks had made it down the garden in one piece. She was happily looking around at the little patio outside the back door. Her eyes drifted from the snow covered plant pots, the garden table which looked rather like a christmas cake when covered in snow, and the frosty snake-like wisteria branches that crawled over the house.

"Your garden is so cool," she said.

"You should see it in the summer," I replied hoping that one day she would. "Now er, we better get inside so I can check on dinner."

I magically unlocked the back door and held it open for Tonks who stepped through. She looked fondly at the pile of wellington boots that sat by the door underneath the coat hooks, and then at the old bridle on the wall that had at some point become a resting-place for quills. I took Tonks coat and hung it on one of the coat hooks along with my own, then I turned to her and she smiled.

_At last we're alone_, her expression seemed to say. I smiled too with similar excitement. I stepped towards her, then hesitated, was I allowed to just kiss her? Tonks seemed similarly uncertain, but after a few awkward moments, and a couple of bashed noses, we kissed. In her enthusiasm, Tonks's pushed me against the wall and I decided that maybe this date would end in the bedroom after all. I had to stop her though when my head hit one of the coat hooks. As I rubbed the bruise forming at the back of my head Tonks blushed and apologised.

"Don't worry," I told her. "I should check on the food though."

I lead Tonks through the hall and then through the little dining room and into the kitchen where dinner had been quietly cooking itself. I walked to the oven and quickly checked that nothing was burning. I'd made a sort of chicken casserole, nothing that impressive, but it tasted nice. All I had left to do were some vegetables. So I rolled up my sleeves and charmed the carrots, courgettes and tomatoes to peel and chop themselves and put a pot of water on the stove to heat up. Tonks seemed to enjoy watching me cook. I poured some wine and we chatted about how odd it was that I could cook but I couldn't make a potion.

"Maybe you just don't like potions," Tonks theorised.

"Maybe," I agreed. "They are a bit boring."

Tonks grinned and stole another carrot.

"Hey!" I chastised. "There'll be none left." Tonks gave me a cheeky grin and ate the carrot raw. She asked me about various items she spotted in the kitchen and dining room. The dining room was joined to a little conservatory which housed some rather wild-looking herbs and magical plants, as well as some other objects to interest Tonks. Several fossils, a couple of very old barely flight-worthy broomsticks, the rocking chair my mother used to feed me in when I was a baby and lots of photographs of my family and me, playing with my cousins, riding tractors etc.

"You're a bit of a country boy really aren't you?" Tonks said with glee as she examined the photos.

"I suppose," I replied with a shrug. "Are you hungry? It's basically ready now."

"Yes, I'm starving," she said. "Are we eating in here?"

"No, well we can if you want to, but I thought we could eat in the living room by the fire. It's much warmer in there you see, the dining room gets a bit cold in the winter – like everywhere. This house isn't very well protected against the cold."

Tonks helped me carry the food and the wine into the living room and we set up on the old coffee table which we moved in front of the fire. In an effort to make it more romantic I magically dimmed the lights and lit a few candles, but it still felt more like an indoor picnic with an old friend than a first date; it was so relaxed and conversation came so easily. In fact Tonks seemed more at ease than I had seen her for months. She was talkative and made lots of jokes and smiled beautifully nearly all night. Then after we'd finished eating she didn't hesitate before shifting over to my side of the coffee table so that she could sit close to me while I summoned some ice cream from the kitchen for desert.

"This is so nice," she said as she ate her last spoonful of melted ice cream. I had finished mine a while ago, so contentedly ran my hand along her leg which was tangled with mine.

"Do you mean the ice cream or this evening?" I asked.

"Both," she said with a smile.

"You sure it's not been a bit boring?" I said. "Would you not have preferred to go out?"

"No, this is much better," Tonks said. She ran her index finger across the bottom of her ice cream bowl then put it in her mouth in a deliciously unsophisticated way. "No-one's ever cooked for me before."

"Really?" I said surprised but pleased that I had achieved something no other man had. Tonks put down her ice cream bowl and turned away from me to curiously inspect my living room. While she looked around the room I looked quite intently at her mouth. It had been a good few hours since I last kissed her, too long in my opinion. I moved my hand a few centimetres up her thigh and was about to turn her towards me, but then she spoke.

"What's that?" she said. I cleared my throat and leaned away from her.

"It's a television," I said.

"What the hell is one of those?"

"I'll show you." I heaved myself off the floor and moving towards the television.

"Now it has to be plugged in...er..." I stumbled around the strange box looking for the tail-like wire sticking out of the back of it. "Yes that's it..." I found the plug took a moment to align the prongs that stuck out of it with the holes in the wall then pushed it in. I then pressed the on button of the television but nothing happened. I gave the television an impatient whack.

"I'm not actually connected to the, oh what's it called, the thingy...er...the network of electricity that muggles use." The machine still wasn't working so I fiddled with some of the dials and pressed random buttons in the hope something would happen.

"Network of what?"

"Electricity, you know, um...the kind of magic that makes muggle machines work."

"Oh yeah, electrickity, that's what Arthur calls it."

"Yes, well speaking of Arthur, he'd be very proud of me. I'm not connected to the muggle network, but I've managed to charm the main connection out in the road...so with any luck..." I gave the television a final whack and it flickered into life. A slightly fuzzy picture of a muggle with some kind of greyish sludge in front of him was apparently trying to strangle it while the audience laughed at him.

"Ooh!" Tonks squealed with delight, jumping from the floor and crouching by the television to get a better look. "What the hell is that guy doing? It he trying to make a pot?"

"That's the generation game," I told her happily, "it's hilarious..."

"Wow...that's so amazing."

The poor muggle was getting wet clay all over himself, and by the end I think most of the clay was on his face instead of forming part of the wonky pot he had managed to make.

"I don't really use it," I said, "but I haven't the heart to get rid of it, it's just so impressive."

Tonks and I watched the show for a few minutes then she turned shyly to me.

"You can kiss me again now," she said and I grinned.

"Sorry," Tonks added. "I realised too late that's what you were trying to do..."

I didn't need to be told twice. I took her hand and pulled her into my arms. While we kissed the audience of the generation game started to clap and cheer. Tonks and I took it as encouragement and by the time the news came on we were laying on the floor, limbs entwined, becoming well acquainted with the contours of each other's bodies. It felt strange and slightly dream-like for Tonks and I to be suddenly so intimate and I worried that perhaps we were taking things too fast, but only for a second. It was too exciting to worry, and she was too beautiful to resist. I had started to unbutton her dress, and the sight of her half-undressed would have made any man weak at the knees, I didn't stand a chance.

Tonks and I were getting so carried away that we almost didn't notice one of the pendants she wore start to make a strange rattling noise. I only noticed when the necklace came in close proximity to my face.

"You're necklace is buzzing." I lay down on the floor feeling chastened.

"What?" she said, clearly disappointed by the interruption. She looked down at the rattling pendant and her expression became serious. "Oh."

The pendant turned out to be a kind of locket which Tonks opened to reveal a small piece of parchment. Tonks remained astride me as she read it. I worked out quite quickly it was a message, probably from the auror department. Tonks bit her lip rolled up the parchment and put it back inside the locket. Then she looked at me with deep apology.

"You have to go?" I said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Tonks gently ran her hand down the side of my face.

"Don't be, it's alright."

Tonks smiled with thanks, stood up and started buttoning up her dress. I went to get Tonks's coat and while I helped her put it on she explained that Augustus Rockwood had been spotted in Richmond and Dawlish needed Tonks to help him investigate.

"I guess it's always going to be like this?" Tonks said sadly as I stood behind her resting my hands gently on her shoulders. "Getting interrupted all the time."

"Well with everything going on..." I said honestly. Tonks sighed then turned around to hug me.

"Thank you for tonight – it was really really lovely," she said. I held her tightly and breathed in the scent of her hair.

"Please be careful." I let Tonks go and she stood on her tiptoes so she could give me a kiss goodbye. She flooed to the ministry and as soon as she was gone I missed her.


	64. A Lecture and A Protest

Right, I am so sorry I've not updated for such a long time. I've been very very busy lately and simply have not had the time to write anything. But I would really like to get to the end, so I've been trying to pick up where I left off – which has been difficult! This chapter is only short, because no matter how hard I tried I couldn't make it not rubbish! The next one will be up quite soon – and will be fun romantic one.

64 A Lecture and a Protest

The next morning the Daily Prophet reported the Rockwood sighting.

"Ministry Aurors were again unable to apprehend the Death Eater," the Prophet said, but it didn't specify why that was. I was also curious as to what Rockwood was doing in London anyway. It was a dangerous place for an escaped convict to be, so presumably he had an important reason. I thoughtfully drank some coffee and turned to the next page. Umbridge had introduced more of her ridiculous 'educational decrees'. Teachers were now not allowed to give students information beyond what was specified in school syllabuses, which to me sounded like a violation of freedom of speech. Although I still very much missed teaching at Hogwarts, there were many reasons I was glad I wasn't teaching there this year. Given her absolute hatred for werewolves, Umbridge no doubt would have made my life hell, and given my – yes I'm going to say it – hatred for her, it wouldn't have been too difficult for her to do so. What's more I could never have put up with all these educational decrees. I would never had been able to abide by this latest one: giving extra information to an interested student was one of the most fun parts of teaching. I scowled at the photograph of Umbridge looking smug as she stood next to a framed poster of her latest rule. Then I read an article about how Dumbledore was warning everyone about You-Know-Who's return because he was a megalomaniac who wanted everyone to live in constant fear.

I was about half-way through the terribly speculative article when Sirius entered the kitchen.

"How did it go then?" he asked me with a smile. I closed the paper and gave him a small smile in return.

"Um...It was good," I said vaguely.

"Kingsley said Tonks got called out to search for Rockwood," said Sirius. "Does that mean you had to cut the date short?"

"Yes," I admitted with a wry smile that Sirius immediately understood.

"At a crucial moment?" he asked with a slight grimace to convey his sympathy.

"You could say that..."

"Other than that it was good though?"

"Yes. Though I still can't understand what she sees in me. She's so..." I found I couldn't find the right adjective. It was somewhere in the vicinity of 'sexy', 'vivacious' and 'captivating' but none of those words had enough oomph.

"I'll admit, you've got lucky with Tonks," said Sirius saving me the trouble of trying to describe Tonks. "But you've got things to offer too."

I laughed. "Yeah? Like what?"

"Wisdom and experience," said Sirius with a cheeky spark in his eyes.

"Piss off you gobshite," I told him.

I spent the rest of the day in Oxford organising a lecture. Professer Hawthorne had managed to convince the Oxford dons to let me give a talk on the protective spells we had cast. He had to squeeze me into the first week of university term which meant I only had two days to prepare. I got a message from Tonks at around lunchtime telling me she woudln't be able to see me that evening as she'd been called away to Durham on an investigation. She sounded dissapointed in her letter and had drawn a little picture of herself looking sad but blowing me a kiss. Perhaps it was supposed to make me feel better but it made me miss her even more.

The day of the lecture was quite exciting for me. It had been a long time since I had given a lecture, and since my lycanthropy had more or less destroyed my career at the university this lecture was an opportunity for me to regain some credibility. Professor Hawthorne was very helpful in helping me plan the lecture and for inviting professors from other universities and places of magical learning. About twenty people turned up, which may not sound like very many, but I was pleased. To keep the lecture secret from the general public it was held quite late in the evening in one of the dungeons of the old castle in south Oxford. The dungeon bore some similarities to the dugeons at Hogwarts with bare stone walls and gothic archways, but there the similarity ended. Unlike Hogwarts, the floor was covered with machine-made blue carpet, electric lights with tail-like white wires hung from the ceiling, and all the chairs were made of plastic. Ignoring the stone walls, and the fact that it was in the dungeon of a castle, the room couldn't look more muggle. I enjoyed watching the old wizard scholars cast their eyes around it as they entered. They were all very traditional looking wizards, with robes of crushed velvet, thick belts with brass buckles, pointed hats and waist length beards. They contrasted so starkly with the room that for a moment I completely understood why muggles think wizards look so odd. They all regarded the room with distaste and bewilderment. Imagine your elderly grandmother walking into a brothel and you will have some idea of the expression on these wizard's faces. They sat down on the plastic chairs looking like they expected the things to collapse underneath them. The muggles that attended the lecture, rather surprisingly, seemed much more at ease around the wizards than the wizards did around the muggles.

My lecture was about forty-five minutes, with another forty-five for questions, and despite feeling a little nervous, it went very well I thought. Everyone seemed very interested in the project (and none linked it with the Order's desire to protect Oxford from a Death Eater attack), although a few of them were skeptical about the prospect of repeating the spells in another town. They argued that the muggles in Oxford were particularly opened minded, and many of them knew about magic, which may have been why I was able to use their emotions to power the charms – with less open minded or informed muggles it might not have worked. It was a good point, and without some more experiments I couldn't answer. But this turned out to be a blessing in disguise; so keen were the Oxford dons to find out if my spells would work in another town they agreed to fund another experiment – something the Order would surely be happy about.

I left the lecture feeling rather brillient. Happier than I had felt for a long time. Professor Hawthorne and Professor Flitwick were very congratualtory and I felt like I was doing what I was supposed to be doing again. I loved being back in Oxford, I loved discussing spells, how they work and how to put magic to good use. Sadly, my good mood was shortlived. Professor Hawthorne and I had done our very best to keep the lecture a secret but someone had got wind of it. When we came up from the dungeon and walked through the old portcullis of the castle we were greeted by an angry rabble of protesters. They were shouting and waving placcards with messages like "No Integration!" and "Keep the Magic Pure!".

"Oh gosh!" Flitwick squeaked. The lecture attendees quickled shuffled away, but Flitwick and I weren't fast enough. We were showered with red sparks and the crowd began yelling with added vigour. "Muggle science will destroy magic!" the crowd cried. "They want to stamp us out!"

As I looked at the crowd a face caught my eye. My heart started racing and I felt my blood rush through my body. I hadn't seen him for eighteen years but I couldn't fail to recognise him. Pale skin stretched tightly over an angular skull, one peircing black eye next to an empty socket. A battle scar I had left him with. He had tortured my mother and tried to kill my family so I had tried to kill him, but being only seventeen all I had managed to do was permenantly destroy one of his eyes. Antonin Dolohov was standing in the middle of the crowd, his single eye locked onto me, smoking a pipe as if he had no cares or worries in the world. I couldn't stand the sight of him standing there freely. He murdered my father. He should be locked away for ever or dead! I ran towards him, pushing my way into the crowd. I fought fiecely to get to him. I was so determined that I paid no attention to the people I pushed out of my way. But it was in vain, after a last smirk, Dolohov dissapeared from my sight and I was left standing in the middle of a crowd that hated me.

"You see what he did!? The bastard!" I heard someone cry. "He pushed that woman over."

I turned to my right and saw a witch sitting on the ground. Flooded with shame, I offer her my hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I'm so sorry!" I insisted. "I didn't mean - I was..."

"Get off me!" the witch shouted. "No respect! You have no respect!"

"Magic hater!"

"Call yourself a wizard you should be ashamed!"

Those closest to me started to push and shove me. I tried to make my way back towards Flitwick.

"You're a disgrace!"

"You and your kind will be the end of magic!"

"That makes no sense!" I shouted back loosing my temper. "I've been inventing new magic! I'm trying to _advance_ magic!"

My reply only made the crowd angrier. They shot sparks at me and I felt it wouldn't be long before they started firing hexes.

"Mixing magic with muggles will only destroy it!" A wizard yelled at me jabbing his wand towards my nose. I cautiously stepped away from him. He was an ugly chap, tall but quite plump with a piggish nose and small screwed up eyes. "Their science will crush magic!" There were a few jeers from the people standing in close proximity some expressing support for the angry wizard, some expressing disagreement.

"You can't have much faith in magic if you think that will happen," I argued, although there didn't seem much point reasoning with the crowd. Their views were motivated by fear, reason had nothing to do with it, I wouldn't be able to change their minds with a logical argument because the truth didn't matter, and that frustrated me.

I suddenly felt someone tugging at the sleave of my coat. I looked down to see Flitwick trying to pull me out of the crowd.

"Nevermind them Remus, this is just anti-muggle nonsense," Flitwick said to me. "Let's get out of here."

I nodded and turned to walk away with Flitwick, but then I heard a cold calm voice from somewhere behind me.

"My my, what controversy your little experiment has created." I turned to see none other than Lucius Malfoy. As always he looked grotesquely rich in velvet trimmed robes with his snake-topped walking stick held proudly in has hand. I wondered if he had been there with Dolohov. The crowd's anger abated and they moved back a little. Apparently, Malfoy was an imposing figure worthy of silence in their eyes.

"Defensive spells against Dark Magic, is that right?" he asked me with a glint of malice in his eyes.

"Yes that's right."

"Why on Earth would Oxford need spells like that? Do they anticipate some sort of attack?" If Malfoy was fishing for information about the Order he was being surprisingly blatent. I gave Malfoy a pitying expression, which seemed to offend him. He bristled with anger and glowered at me.

"They were suitable for the purposes of the experiment," I said, making no attempt not to sound patronising. "But at the moment the details are only available to associates of the Department of Supernatural Science."

Malfoy glared at me, and I saw his gloved hand make a movement towards his wand.

"Is that so?" I asked in a hiss. "I wouldn't pay any attention to him or his little experiment," he then said loudly to the crowd. "He's a werewolf anyway, and what would an _animal_ know about magic?"

The W word had its usual effect on the crowd and myself. I felt a flush of hatred.

"What did you say he was Lucius?" the plump wizard asked Malfoy, staring at me we sheer disgust.

"A werewolf Edgar, Mr Lupin here is a werewolf. A _mudblood_ one at that."

The crowd jeered and hissed. I turned away from Malfoy and the crowd and gestured to Flitwick that we should dissaparate. He nodded in agreement, but that moment a curse hit my squarely in the back. I couldn't tell what it was but it hurt. I stopped and yelled out in pain. Everyone was laughing. I looked back round. The curse had come from Malfoy, who was grinning triumphantly as if there was some kind of glory in cursing someone when their back was turned. He sent another hex in my direction. I deflected it but then another came at me too quickly. It hit me in the shoulder and set my coat alight. I beat the flames out with my free hand then even though it was a brash and foolish thing to do I whacked Malfoy with a blasting hex. He fell over backwards, rolling through the air and loosing one boot as he fell. I disarmed him and lowered my wand. Malfoy scrambled back onto his feet, looking an utter fool, but I felt no joy in beating him. The crowd only hated me more.

I noticed some Hit Wizards appearing around us with faint pops. Finally they had arrived. They started running towards us from the main road their wands drawn. Flitwick waved his arms to get their attention and pointed towards Malfoy, but he had already dissapparated with a whip of his cloak. The Hit Wizards instead set to calming the angry mob. I felt a stab of pain in my back from Malfoy's hex. I reached to the small of my back where the pain was most intense. There was a strange lump under my coat, but touching it made the pain worse so I quickly let go. I turned to Flitwick.

"Remus I must insist that we leave!" he said with a mixture of anxiety and anger.

We apparated back to number twelve. Flitwick came in with me, perhaps to check that I was alright. It was nice of him to be concerned, but his presence accentuated the embarassment and irritation I felt about what had happened. He escorted me down to the kitchen where we found Sirius in his dog form, curled up by the fire. He stood up and barked when he saw Flitwick and I walk in.

"Hello Sirius," Flitwick said politely, "there was a bit of commotion outside the lecture tonight, Lucius Malfoy was there."

"He wasn't the only one," I added. Sirius transformed back into a man and frowned. "Antonin Dolohov was there as well."

I carefully sat down at the kitchen table, but it made the pain in my back rather worse so I stood up again.

"What the hell were they doing there?" Sirius demanded, "and what happened to you?"

"Malfoy cursed him," Flitwick explained. "Are you alright Remus?"

I reached round to my back again and felt the strange lump under my coat. I winced.

"Would you like me to have a look – I might be able to help," Flitwick offered.

"I'll be fine, it was probably just a bruising hex," I said. Flitwick didn't look convinced but he didn't press the matter, instead he explained to Sirius what had happened. Dolohov and Malfoy were probably there to try and find out what had been said at the lecture. The Death Eaters knew about the Order, and probably knew I was a member, so they'd have to be idiots not to suspect my work in Oxford was part of an Order mission. It didn't really matter that the Death Eaters knew we had cast protective spells over Oxford – in a way it was a good thing, now that the Death Eaters knew Oxford was protected they might think twice about attacking it. What they were indubitably more keen to know was how the Order found out the Death Eaters were interested in attacking Oxford in the first place, who our informant was. That was the secret it was important to keep hidden. But Malfoy and Dolohov couldn't have expected to glean that information just by turning up outside my lecture, not unless they had planned to kidnap me. Even if that was their plan though, they never could have managed it with so many other people around.

My heart sank when I thought of the protest. I thought the witches and wizards of Oxford would have supported my project. I was trying to proove that magic was a human thing, not just a wizard thing. Did no-one care about that? Was I the only one? The hating eyes of the crowd bore into my soul, and even though I should not have let it get to me, it did. Flitwick assured me that I should not worry, that there were many more witches and wizards supporting what I was doing than opposing it, and that I had done a good job for the Order, but that didn't seem to stir the looks of loathing from my mind.

"Well, I best be getting back to Hogwarts," Flitwick said, "I've got Harry's class tomorrow morning."

"How is he?" Sirius asked. "No-one's catching wind of his secret Defence Against the Dark Arts classes right?"

Flitwick gave a happy giggle.

"Oh, a few of us know, Minerva and myself, Dumbledore has an idea I think – he's not actually said anything, but I think he approves," said Flitwick, a merry smile appearing underneath his curly moustache. "When we talk about it in the staff room we refer to it as 'fifth year revision', and Dumbledore's always got a twinkle in his eyes when we talk about it. But I don't think Umbdrige knows what's going on."

"Good good," Sirius said with a beam of pride. "He's a smart kid."

"Like his father," I added, "though a little less proud about it..." Sirius gave a bark of laughter.

"Well I'll see you at the next meeting Filius," Sirius said warmly to Flitwick before he flooed to Hogsmeade. Once he was gone I let out a groan of pain that I had been surpressing. Sirius looked at me his eyebrows lowered over puzzled eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Malfoy's curse," I explained taking off my coat careful not to nudge the lump on my back. It must have looked worse with my coat off because Sirius's eyes sprang open with shock.

"What the hell is that?" he asked walking closer to me. I tried to see what he was looking at over my shoulder. Sirius grabbed the bottom of my jumper and pulled it up to my shoulders. As Sirius moved it, the jumper disturbed the growth on my back causing me to yell out in pain.

"What are you doing you idiot?!" I yelled at him, trying to push him away from me.

"I'm trying to see what it is you big baby," Sirius hissed. He grabbed me by the arm with one hand to hold me still and pulled my jumper up again.

"Ow! You bastard!"

He pulled up my shirt and grimaced.

"What? What is it?" I said. I grabbed my wand and levitated one of the large copper pans sitting on the stove so I could use it as a mirror. Sticking out of my back at odd angles were several large black feathers. It was like they had grown from my skin, but at the same time they looked like arrows as blood was dribbing down from the base of each feather.

"I guess it's a kind of transfiguring spell. Perhaps if Malfoy actually had any skill feathers would have sprung out everywhere." Sirius then thought it would be a good idea to try and pull one of the feathers out. I made a noise like a rhino being skewered so Sirius let got and sniggered.

"Yeah, they've got barbs on," he said sheepishly. I reached round and felt around the feathers. Fresh blood was smeared all over my back.

"Well done," I snapped at Sirius.

"Hey, calm down, I'm trying to help. You shouldn't have got into a fight anyway."

My shoulders sank and I leant against the kitchen table. I thought of Dolohov and the night he killed my father. The pain in my back seemed like nothing compared to that thought.

I couldn't get the feathers out by myself, so Sirius and I went up to the drawing room and, after carefully taking off my jumper and shirt, I lay face down on the sofa so that Sirius could attempt to pull out the feathers. He'd brought a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean up the blood, and was just about to start teasing out the first feather when we heard an almightly crash from downstairs. The two of us froze and listened, although we already had a good idea as to who had just arrived at number twelve.

"Filth! Scum! Get out of my house!" Mrs Black suddenly started to scream.

"Tonks," Sirius and I said at the same time. He left the bowl of water on the foor and me face down on the sofa with no shirt and feathers sticking out of my back and went to greet Tonks. While he was gone I burried my face in the upholstry. I hadn't seen her for four days and even though I had missed her terrbily, I didn't really want her to see me like this. I was embarrassed, so kept my blushing face hidden in the sofa when Tonks entered the room.

"Oh, Remus, what have you done?" I heard her ask me sounding weirdly like my mother. She walked across the room in her chunky boots, then I felt her hand gently on my shoulder.

"It wasn't my fault. He started it," I said into the sofa.

"What did he say?" Tonks asked Sirius, so Sirius told Tonks everything Flitwick had told him. Tonks called Malfoy a string of absolutely deplorable names.

"And what are these? Quils?"

"Just feathers – but they have barbs on – you can't just pull them out," Sirius explained.

It was beginning to get difficult to breathe with my face burried in the sofa so I turned my face to the side and saw Tonks standing next to me. She was wearing her hair short, messy and blonde, but the rest of her face was entirely natural – even her nose. She smiled at me and her eyes changed from their natural blue to gold as she felt the warm feeling she felt whenever she looked at my eyes. My heart instantly lifted.

She sat down next to me on the sofa and had a look at the feathers, working out how best to remove them.

"They are not in very deep," she said, "I think if we just pull them out gently you will be fine. Let me just wash my hands, and then I'll take them out for you."

Tonks left to wash her hands, which is something Sirius hadn't bothered to do.

"I'll go and make some tea," said Sirius with a shrug. Tonks returned a short while later, sat down on the sofa next to me and started to gently remove the feathers. I lay quietly, wincing only slightly when some of the larger feathers were removed. Once removed, Tonks put the feathers in a silver tray she had conjured. They were black with a slight bluish sheen and had spines of metal with three little barbs on the end. The spines seemed to be resistant to my blood because it dribbled off them forming a little pool in the tray and leaving the spines shiny and clean. There were eleven in total. After the first eight Tonks asked me why I was so quiet.

I felt her pinch another feather between her fingers and carefully tilt it so she could unhook it from my flesh. I grit my teeth until it was out.

"They said I was destroying magic," I said quietly.

"You don't believe them though," said Tonks as she dropped the feather into the tray with the others.

"No, but...they _hated_ me. Then Malfoy told everyone what I was. That's when the fight started."

Tonks paused from pulling out the feathers and rubbed her hand across my shoulders in comfort.

"This is what it's like you know. My life." I leant up on my elbows and twisted round to look at her. She looked lovely with all her natural features, pale skin against shocking blue eyes, but so young.

"Are you sure you want to be a part of it?"

"Shush." Tonks smiled kindly at me and gently put her forefinger over my lips. "Lie down, I'm nearly done."

I lay back down and Tonks started on the tenth feather

"Do you think Dolohov was there because of you?" She sounded anxious.

Regardless of whether Malfoy and Dolohov had wanted to kidnap me, it was more than likely that Dolohov could be added to the list of men who wanted me dead or suffering. Strangely though, it didn't anger or worry me. I wanted him dead or suffering just as much. And besides, I was beginning to get used to being a wanted man. Everyone in the Order was a target, and assuming his desire for revenge hadn't abated, Leohnard the vampire still wanted me dead, what difference did one more enemy make? Judging by the tone of her voice, Tonks was quite a bit more worried that I was.

"It may well have been because of me Tonks," I said. "But it's not as if this was unexpected. None of us thought after the escape from Azkaban that the Death Eaters would just dissapear. The war is not over for them, they still want rid of us."

She pulled out the last feather and I hissed with pain.

"Sorry," Tonks said softly, sounding almost brokenhearted. I twisted round to look at her again. I took her hand and wished I knew what to say.

Siriius returned with the tea and Tonks proceedd to clean the blood off my back and knit all the little wounds together with some spells. While she worked she discussed the protest with Sirius. They said loudly and angrilly that they thought it was ridiculous, and that Malfoy had probably arranged it.

When Tonks had finished on my back I put my clothes back on and quietly drank my tea.

"Don't take it personally Moony, they were obviously all nutters," Sirius assured me. I nodded but didn't say anything so Tonks shuffled up next to me on the sofa, looped her arm around mine and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment or two then kissed my cheek. A smile forced its way onto my face. Sirius also chuckled at how easily Tonks could change my mood.


	65. Mrs Black Does Not Approve

Sorry, if you are a little confused readers. I think the long break may have screwed things up a little. Lupin is doing two missions for the Order at the same time: he's spying on the werewolves and setting up defenses in Oxford. Last chapter was Lupin finishing off his work in Oxford. He will be going back to the werewolves next month. He can't go this full moon because he hasn't been taking wolfsbane for the last month, but Snape will make him some for next month.

Erm, I'm not very happy with this chapter, I can't say exactly why I just don't like it. Maybe because it's quite a lighthearted chapter – but Tonks and Lupin need to have some fun before everything goes wrong again.

65 Mrs Black Does Not Approve

Tonks stayed and had a late dinner with Sirius and I that evening, but sadly she could not spend the night. With the escaped Death Eaters still at large, Tonks and her colleagues were having to work all hours. That night she had to help transport a witness from Durham to a safe house in Jersey. They were making the trip by broom, so it would take all night. Tonks said that I could visit her when she got back, but I insisted that she use the afternoon to rest and relax. With all the night shifts and extra hours she was doing – not to mention guard duty which she still did every two weeks – I worried she was working too hard. I saw her again a few days later and she definitely looked tired, her hair was a little limp and a sort of faded pink colour, as if she was trying to feel bubbly but was too sleepy to quite manage it, which bolstered my concerns she was overworking.

She had arrived for an Order meeting but come a bit early to see me. I was in number twelve's library working on a paper. Professor Hawthorne had persuaded me to turn the lecture I had given into a paper that he would recommend to be published in the next Transfiguration Today. It had only been a few months since I had been outed as a werewolf in the Daily Prophet, or since the chief of the Transfiguration Today board, Arnold Warrington, had called me a 'dangerous creature' unfit for 'civilised society' earning him a verbal beating from Tonks at the SWAMP ball, so I highly doubted Transfiguration Today would publish anything written by 'werewolf Remus Lupin'. But I had started writing the paper anyway. One never knew, perhaps the Journal of Supernatural Science would publish it. The weather that week was especially cold, cold enough for the ponds in London's many parks to ice over and for the muggles to start getting anxious about oncoming snow. Like many of the rooms in Sirius's house, the library had a large extravagant fireplace that despite its size was mysteriously poor at heating the room, so I was wearing the thick wool jumper Molly had knitted me for Christmas, a scarf, and had a blanket draped over my shoulders. I also kept having to tap my wand against my teacup to reheat it. I was scribbling away with a biro (since my mother introduced me to these muggle pens I found myself unable to write with anything else) when Tonks came into the library, also wearing a thick winter jumper and scarf. Despite her tiredness, she greeted me with as warm a smile as ever. She came to the desk so I put down my pen and tried in vain to rub the ink stain off my middle finger. Tonks ran her hand through my hair and I turned my face towards her hand and kissed her wrist. She sighed contentedly then I took her hands in mine.

"I've missed you," I said.

"Me too," she replied. She bit her lip and glanced at the door to check no-one was about to walk in, then she hitched up her skirt and proceeded to bestride me with a clear intention not to waste the few minutes we had alone. Her playful mood was infectious.

"How is your back?" she asked thoughtfully as she got comfortable on my lap.

"It feels fine, you did a good job."

"Of course I did, I need you fighting fit," she said with a flirty smirk.

"That sounds promising," I said in an equally suggestive tone. Tonks giggled as if she couldn't quite believe I was flirting. Her hair got a little brighter so that it matched her pink velvet mini skirt and a blush appeared on her cheeks.

"Are you going to kiss me then, or are just going to sit there?" I asked cheerfully when I decided we'd been gazing lovingly at each other for long enough. "Because if you are you can get your own chair." I gave her thighs a teasing squeeze.

Tonks pretended to be cross for a few seconds then gave in to my ultimatum. We enjoyed our few minutes alone – perhaps too much as it left us deeply regretting that we only had a few minutes. Somewhat reluctantly, we went down to the kitchen for the Order meeting. It was unfortunately long, with many reports to give and a lot of arguing. I gave a short report about the protest outside my lecture, and how I had seen Dolohov as well as Malfoy in the crowd.

"There have been a couple of protests like that in the last few months, remember there was that one outside the SWAMP Ball?" Bill said after my report. "People seem to be starting to fall into factions – Dumbledore supporters versus people who support Fudge, people who're against muggle integration people who are for it..."

"It was like this at the start of the last war as well," added McGonagall sadly. "There were protests and rallies every week."

"It's happening exactly as it did before," contributed Sturgis.

"Fudge must remember that though," said Emmeline hotly. "He was there for the last war. We can't be the only one's to see the signs. I can't understand how he can still deny that Voldemort hasn't returned. It's so obvious."

"Well he _is_ in denial," said Kingsley, "whether you understand it or not."

"And he's still using me as a scapegoat," hissed Sirius bitterly. "The Prophet as well. They blame me for everything. The way they write, you'd think I was worse than Voldemort himself." Sirius's face contorted into an ugly scowl, and I myself felt a twist in my stomach at the inexcusable injustice.

Tonks gave a report as well, on the auror's hunt for the escaped Death Eaters. Tonks was certain there was a spy in the auror department. To her it was the only logical explanation for why the aurors had not already recaptured the Death Eaters, because it wasn't as if they were lying low. They were very active, they'd been spotted all over the country, they'd been threatening and blackmailing people to join them, and attacking muggle-borns. Tonks and her team were working as hard as they could, putting themselves into all kinds of danger, to try and catch them but at every turn their efforts had been thwarted as if the Death Eaters knew the aurors were coming. Tonks tried her best to remain calm and impassive during her report, but her frustration and anger was obvious. I wondered why she hadn't mentioned how she felt about it to me. But I suppose I'd hardly seen her long enough the last few days for her to tell me anything.

Proceeding her report the Order had a short argument about how best to recapture the Death Eaters. Sirius thought we should be more proactive about hunting them down while others thought it would be foolish to turn the Order into a vigilante justice league. I could see Sirius's point, but I wasn't on his side. If the Order started taking the law into their own hands, more patently than we were already that is, we'd be just as much enemies of the Ministry as the Death Eaters, and we couldn't afford to have the Ministry as an enemy as well. At the end of the meeting Dumbledore reminded me that he wanted me to join Greer's pack again as soon as I was able. It wasn't possible this month, as I hadn't been taking wolfsbane, but Snape was apparently brewing me another batch so it looked like I'd been with Greer again come the February full moon.

A few of the Order stayed for a drink after the meeting, Sturgis, Hestia, and Bill and Fleur who kept one arm around the other almost the entire evening – it was quite remarkable how they were able to operate with just two hands between them. No-one was at their liveliest, and none of our friends stayed long, but I was glad they stayed for Sirius's sake as much as anything. I think finally he was starting to recover from the trauma of Azkaban. He still suffered mood swings from time to time, fits of melancholia, and I'm not sure he'd ever loose that ghostly shadow from his eyes, but with friends around him he was much more cheerful and more like himself. The house too was starting, at long last, to look slightly less haunted and a bit more lived in. The Order had been using it for over six months so it was about time. The kitchen in particular had transformed. It was the room we spent most of our time in and it bore signs of frequent use. My books sat on the side table by the fireplace, Tonks's scarfs and jumpers and necklaces and earrings were scattered about the room as she had a habit of leaving her belongings everywhere, and Sirius was responsible for the impressive collection of dirty mugs and plates in the sink.

After the others had gone home, Sirius, Tonks and I headed up to the drawing room with a bottle of wine. Like the kitchen, the drawing room was also beginning to look less hostile and depressing. I couldn't say exactly what had changed; the décor was still muted silvers, deep reds and dark greens, all rich but unfeeling colours, the portraits still looked on with disdain, the upholstery was still faded and moth-eaten and the carpet still did little to prevent a draft leaking up through the floorboards; but the light was different. It was brighter. There weren't eerie shadows in every corner that moved as if alive. With the three of us in the room, adding life and colour to it, it hardly seemed the same as it had been when Sirius and I first broke in. Tonks especially changed the atmosphere with her lovely bright pink mini skirt, lime green tights and pink hair. She sat cross legged on one of the sofas with a book of old Celtic spells, while Sirius and I played backgammon on the floor. In between my turns I rubbed my hand against Tonks knees and listened to her tell me about potentially useful spells she found in the book.

"Some of these are really nifty, like this one look," she said excitedly. "It makes your enemy go blind but, and this is the cool bit, guess what the counter curse is?"

"What is it?"

"The spell caster has to kiss the eyes of his enemy," explained Tonks. "It's quite ingenious really. Because it means your enemy is blind until you forgive him."

"How weird," remarked Sirius.

"Actually that's perfect," I said. "To cast an effective Avada Kedavra you have to have your target in clear sight."

"Is that true?" said Sirius, also suddenly interested. "We'll have to teach that spell to the Order." Tonks told me about her work as well. It seemed like admitting to Sirius and I how aggravating she was finding it at the moment was enough to make her feel better about it.

When it started to get late and I lost interest in backgammon. I found myself thinking it was time Tonks and I had some time alone. The way she looked at me rather suggested she felt the same way. She had abandoned her spell book and was lying on the sofa, her hair now a golden blonde rather than faded pink.

"Gold hair is like soft bedsheets right?" I asked. Tonks nodded and seemed pleased that I had remembered. She nestled into the cushions of the sofa a bit more.

"I'm very comfy," she said in her beautiful velvety voice. Unable to resist I leant over and kissed her. I thought about what she must have been feeling as I savoured the pleasant sensations I was having myself. Blonde hair and her skin's natural pale colour felt like soft cotton and a light breeze to Tonks; she may also have been feeling the gentle warmth of spring sunshine, the feeling she said was associated with my own appearance; and if my lips against hers felt the same as hers against mine then her mind must have been flooded with warmth and softness. I felt a surge of affection thinking of Tonks's synaesthesia, love even, so deepened my kiss. Then I felt a cushion hit my head.

"Cut it out!" protested Sirius. "I'm still here." I turned to see him looking at me with distaste.

"Mm well, maybe you should, you know, make yourself scarce." I raised my eyebrows suggestively so Sirius would get my meaning. Tonks giggled and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"We've almost finished the game." He gestured to the board. He only wanted to carry on playing because he was winning, but he didn't beat me at backgammon very often so I decided to let him feel the satisfaction. Tonks snuggled up on the sofa and watched us finish the game.

"Why don't we go to Ireland next weekend?" Sirius suggested as he rolled the dice. A three and a two. Sirius tutted, he couldn't move. Not that it helped me much, I was way behind.

"Well, you're not really supposed to," I said.

"It was fine last time. No-one will look for me there, and even if someone did see me – not that it's likely – it'd probably be a muggle and they wouldn't recognise me anyway, I've not been on the muggle television for months – years even. They don't care, Kingsley told me."

I rolled a six and a four, which let me get nearly all of my pieces to the end zone. I thought about Sirius's proposal.

"Er, alright. There won't be much to do, the weather there is still awful."

"I don't care, I just want to be somewhere different. I can't even go for a walk here, and it's unbearable."

"Okay, next weekend. Actually we could spend the full moon there." Ireland was a more pleasant place to spend it that Grimmauld place, even with the marvellous spells Sirius had cast in his mother's room.

"Buckbeak would probably enjoy it too," Sirius added. "He doesn't really like the London air."

"How often do you let him out, incidentally?"

"Nearly every night, it would be cruel to keep him inside, he's a wild animal. I put an invisibility charm on him so the muggles don't see him."

"And he doesn't fly away, he always comes back," I remarked with some wonder.

"Yes, it surprises me too, I mean what's there for a Hippogriff here? But he's always back in the garden in the morning wanting some breakfast."

Sirius rolled the die and took his last pieces off the board winning the game. He smiled with triumph and punched the air.

"The full moon's on the Wednesday right?" Sirius continued. "We might as well just stay the week then. It'll take Buckbeak and I a day to get over there anyway."

I nodded in agreement.

"Tonks? Would you like to come too?" I turned to her. She had been strangely quiet for the last fifteen minutes and when I turned to her I saw why. She'd fallen asleep. One hand was hanging over the edge of the sofa the other tucked up near her mouth which was slightly open, her eyes moving underneath closed eyelids indicating she was deep within a dream. Her hair too was very very slowly fading from blonde to its natural brown, which is what Tonks says usually happens when she sleeps. I felt a little disappointed, but my disappointment was outweighed by sympathy; she needed the rest. I heard Sirius chuckle next to me and we exchanged glances.

"Perhaps she should sleep here," Sirius suggested and I nodded.

"In the spare room?"

"Or with you?"

"No! We've not...not yet. That would be weird."

Sirius just shrugged. I turned back to Tonks and gently ran my hand through her hair. She stirred slightly. She closed her mouth and curled into a smaller ball, obviously keen to carry on sleeping.

"Tonks?" I said quietly. "I'll take you up to bed." She moaned softly. I carefully slid my arms underneath her and lifted her off the sofa. She sleepily put her arms around me. I carried her up towards the spare room on the second floor, the room that Ginny and Hermione had slept in over Christmas. Sirius came with me, opening the doors. When we we reached the second landing Tonks sleepily asked me where we were going.

"Can I not sleep with you?" she whispered. I bit my lip and slowed pace a little. Sirius who was ahead of us stopped and turned around with a smug look.

"Do - do you want to?" I asked nervously. Tonks opened her eyes and looked at me. As she was now clearly awake, she gestured for me to put her down so I did.

Sirius, whose smugness had not abated, slightly patronisingly bid us good night and headed up the stairs to his room.

"Good night," Tonks and I called out at the same time.

"If you'd rather I sleep..." Tonks said glancing over her shoulder at the spare room.

"I don't – I mean I...er..." I rambled. She kissed me to stop me thinking and we went up to my room –or rather to Regulus's room. What followed was a little surreal. As Tonks was so tired we decided it might be better to just go to bed and sleep, in a pyjamas-on kind of way. But despite this we couldn't resist tangling ourselves together on the bed. With delight I thought I would get to make love with her after all, but I left her for just a moment to shut the curtains and close the bathroom door, and when I returned she had fallen asleep again!

While Tonks slept soundly throughout the night, I found it quite difficult to sleep with her next to me. I just couldn't quite take in that she was in my bed. Every time I closed my eyes to try and sleep, I'd have to open them again to check that she was still there. And when I saw her with the bedsheets pulled up close to her face, which morphed into its completely natural form when she slept, I couldn't stop myself grinning with excitement. I'm sure it was hours before I eventually feel asleep. Consequently the next morning I was very groggy.

It was about half past six when Tonks got up, much earlier than I ever got up. Tonks showered and dressed, perhaps even had breakfast, while I stayed in bed. When she was about to leave for work she came back to the bed to say goodbye. She ran her hand across my chest to get me to open my eyes. I pulled myself up into a sitting position so I wouldn't be tempted to fall asleep again.

"Merlin you look sexy with bed hair," Tonks said. I think she was being serious. I sniggered.

Tonks sighed and bit her lip.

"Maybe I could just be late for work," she murmured. I grinned and she moved towards me, but then she stopped and her shoulders sank.

"No," she told herself, "I'd just feel guilty and that would spoil it. I'm sorry I fell asleep last night I've just been so tired from work."

"Don't be sorry, I understand. Will you come over this evening?"

"You bet." She gave me a smile that would melt a man's trousers and kissed me goodbye.

Unfortunately though, she was called away to France that night to investigate a suspected Death Eater attack. Over the next week, in typical fashion, Tonks and I found it incredibly difficult to find time to be together. Work for Tonks was still inhumanly busy and I was trying to get the paper for Professor Hawthorne finished, so stealing kisses at the end of Order meetings was the best we could manage, and well, it was frustrating!

The full moon was creeping closer, leaving me a little more impetuous than usual, and the day before Sirius and I had planned to go to Ireland we had a mid-morning Order meeting. I'd been in Oxford the day previously and had just arrived back in London. I stepped into number twelve and quickly magicked the door closed. The weather had gotten much worse, moving from bitterly cold to damn near arctic. The whole country was blanketed with snow which caused no end of angst for the muggles. Their newspapers were rife with snow-themed headlines, and on my way from Diagon Alley to number twelve, I'd heard at least five different conversations about the snow. I'd also witnessed several snow-ball fights; obviously the muggle's antipathy towards snow didn't extend to their children. I started to unwind my scarf, but then the door behind me magically vanished again and I saw Tonks step in. She was also heavily wrapped up in a thick duffle coat and lime green woollen hat. She beamed when she saw me and jumped into my arms. I nearly fell over in surprise.

"Steady on, Tonks!"

"I've not seen you in ages!" Tonks complained as she hugged me.

"We had a meeting the day before yesterday," I corrected.

"I know!" Tonks yelled. "I literally don't know how I've survived. I think about you all the time."

"Yes, I do t-"

My sentence was cut short with a particularly passionate kiss. Then suddenly a ghastly shrieking filled the hallway.

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU DISGUSTING MONSTORS!" Mrs Black had decided to express her disapproval for the amatory behaviour going on in the Noble and Ancient House of Black. "BEASTLY ANIMALS DEFILING THE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS! HELL IS TOO GOOD A DESTINY FOR YOU!"

"For goodness sake," I exclaimed jabbing my wand at the curtains to shut them. The curtains quivered but through sheer stubbornness didn't close. I sighed and started to walk towards the portrait to shut them by hand.

"You defiling the hallway again Moony?" Sirius had appeared at the top of the stairs, a smirk on his face, and came down to help me force the curtains shut.

"What can I say? I'm a hell-raiser," I joked.

"You're a bad influence Tonks."

"It's not me Sirius, he's the marauder remember" argued Tonks. I smirked and put my arm around her.

"Oh, I was only joking, I've not been a marauder for a very long time," I said with an earnest expression while simultaneously sliding my hand down to Tonks's backside. She looked at me with a mixture of surprise and amusement, then pretended to hit me.

The Order meeting dampened my lighthearted mood only slightly. We held the meeting in the drawing room because Dumbledore wanted to show us a plan for a new system of tunnels from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. He charmed a three dimensional plan of the castle and the proposed tunnels to appear in the centre of the room for the Order to examine and discuss. Towards the end of the meeting, Mad-Eye apprised us of another prospective Death Eater hideout: a cave on the east coast of Scotland. Mad-Eye had a hunch Death Eaters were stockpiling weapons there. Mad-Eye's hunches followed a peculiar pattern: the more extreme, pessimistic or downright depressing they were the more likely they were to be correct. Today's hunch was fortunately only moderately depressing, so only moderately likely to be true. Nevertheless, at the end of the meeting, Mad-Eye appealed for volunteers to help him investigate. As McGonagall and Flitwick were going back to Hogwarts anyway they helpfully volunteered. Out of duty, I also offered my services but Mad-Eye declined them.

"No it's alright Remus, three of us should manage – I don't think the cave will be manned this time of day anyway, they usually only seem to go there at night," he said in his brisk-no-nonsense manner. "Besides I know you've got that paper to write."

"I'm free today Mad-Eye," said Tonks, though I could tell from her tone that she didn't really want to go, "are you sure you don't want an extra hand?"

"No no, it's quite alright Tonks, you've been working hard enough lately as it is. Take the day off." It wasn't often Mad-Eye said things like that, and Tonks looked understandably perplexed.

"Take the day off?" she repeated incredulously. "What about our 'constant vigilance'? That's really Alistor Moody under that eye isn't it? Not someone pretending again?"

Moody gave a gruff laugh (evidently Tonks's impostor joke wasn't too soon), and slapped Tonks's shoulder in what was probably meant to be a playful way but, given his strength and Tonks's small stature, nearly flung her across the room. I reach out and caught her before she fell over. Moody looked at me with both his natural and magical eye. The bright blue glass eyeball looked as creepy as ever, but his natural one was sparkling with knowing. He looked back at Tonks with his natural eye, but kept his magical one on me.

"Constant vigilance notwithstanding, I think you should enjoy yourself today," Moody said. Tonks continued to look utterly baffled, but Moody said no more. Instead he left with McGonagall and Flitwick to investigate the cave. The rest of the Order gradually dispersed as well either to their homes, on other missions, or in Sirius's case to finish packing a bag to take to Ireland. He couldn't hide how excited he was to get out of the house. Every couple of hours he'd come and find me to tell me something else we could do while we were there, "go down to the river", "smoke pipes in the cow shed", "hit on women in the pub". Eventually, Tonks and I were left alone in the drawing room with the rest of the day to ourselves. For a few moments we stood silently, taking in the unfamiliar circumstance. Then with sneaky sideways glances we caught each others eyes. Tonks, whose hair was bubblegum pink today and eyes their brightest blue, smirked in a gloriously impish way.

"Well, would you look at that," she purred. "We're all alone."

"And we have some time to kill," I added with as much mischievousness.

Thirty seconds later and we were exchanging fervent kisses while frantically trying to undress each other. We performed a clumsy kind of waltz around the room, tugging off jumpers, unbuttoning shirts and bashing into the piano with a musical clang. I'm sure to an observer it wouldn't have looked nearly as erotic as it felt. Speaking of observers, the drawing room in number twelve has two metre wide floor to ceiling windows. It was very unlikely anyone could see in, we were on the second floor, Grimmauld Place's private garden was in between us and the houses on the opposite side of the square and number twelve was under more enchantments than Gringotts; nevertheless, when Tonks had taken off all of her clothes, and most of mine, and stood before me leaving my heart racing, I suddenly worried about peeping Toms. A jealous streak in me didn't want anyone else to take pleasure in Tonks's naked body.

"Perhaps I should shut those," I said looking at the curtains. I waved my hand at them and shut them by magic. Tonks just laughed.

"Nevermind the bloody curtains!" she said. "You're still far too overdressed."

We made love in the middle of the drawing room. It was sublime. Afterwards, while we lay breathless in a nest of our clothes, I felt like I would never be able to stop smiling. I looked up at the ceiling, in a dream-like state, with an irrepressible grin. Tonks next to me let out a delighted giggle which soon became an exuberant laugh.

"What is so funny?" I asked feeling like laughing myself, despite the niggling worry that she was laughing at me.

"I've had sex with you," she exclaimed happily, and I gazed at her with bemusement.

"I've had sex with Remus Lupin!" Tonks then pronounced looking absolutely delighted about it. "You know that Professor Lupin? That quiet, polite man? Well, I've had sex with him and seriously that quite-polite thing is just an act!" Tonks laughed again and I realised it was not from amusement, but purely from happiness.

"I've seen you _naked_!" she said.

"Yes," I confirmed. "And I, you."

"I'm _seeing_ you naked!" Tonks said her eyes wondering over my undressed body. "Oh you are handsome with no clothes on." I laughed again.

"You are also rather delectable," I said fondly gazing at the parts of her body I had only moments ago been fortunate enough to touch. Tonks let out another shriek of laughter and wriggled on top of me.

"Let's do it again!"

Suddenly there was someone – no doubt Sirius – at the drawing room door.

"No! Don't come in!" I shouted. I sat up quickly, knocking poor Tonks onto the floor. I grabbed my wand and pointed at the door, locking it with a wordless spell just as Sirius tried to open it.

"What-Why?" came Sirius's voice from the other side. Tonks had already started to put her clothes back on so I hastily did the same.

"Er, no reason...just don't," I yelled back as I tugged on my trousers. It took less than three seconds for Sirius to work out the reason.

"Oh, Merlin's balls Remus!" he yelled. "The drawing room? Really?"

Once Tonks and I were dressed – well, more or less – I unlocked the door to find Sirius looking at me with an expression more befitting a maiden aunt than the man who in his seventh year had broken into the prefect's bathroom to sleep with the entire female cohort of the Griffyndor Quidditch team.

"You can come in now," I said sheepishly breaking the silence. It was too much for Tonks, she buried her face into my shoulder to smother her laughter.

"How hard is it to apparate two floors?" accused Sirius.


	66. Danger Under the Irish Moon

66 Danger Under the Irish Moon.

"This is a very old bed," said Tonks. She was lying on her back in my parent's bed in Ireland admiring the floral paintings adorning the bed's headboard. She reached her arms above her head to trace around the flowers with her fingertips. As she reached the bedsheets slipped down her body revealing her bare shoulders but coyly stopping short of revealing any more. The part of her that was visible was beautiful enough however. Her hair was its natural light brown but short and boyish, a pleasing contrast to her naturally feminine face and the mid-morning sunlight illuminated her porcelain skin making it look almost iridescent.

I sat next to her, my back resting against the headboard with a cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper on my lap. It was all bad news (Death Eater attacks blamed on Sirius, more 'evidence' that Harry was bonkers and conspiracy theories about Dumbledore) so I'd started on the crossword.

"Mm. I think it was my grandparent's bed before it was my parents bed."

"Does it have any magic in it?" asked Tonks looking away from the headboard and to me. I sipped my coffee and pondered her question. As I thought my eyes drifted around my parents room. It hadn't changed much since my mother died. I didn't really use it, choosing to sleep in my old room instead despite having long outgrown it; Tonks and I were only using it now because we wanted to sleep in a double bed. My parents's room was the largest bedroom, with a blue carpet and white walls decorated with my mother's paintings and photographs of our family. Tonks had been rather enchanted by these and had insisted I give the story of each one. There was also a dressing table and a small bookcase housing some of my father's history books as well as other bits and pieces, ornaments, jewellery boxes and the like. There weren't many magical items in the room, which distinguished it from the other bedrooms I habitually slept in. Apart from our wands on the bedside table, my father's pocket watch on the chest of drawers, and a few floating lanterns the the room was quite muggle. Beneath the surface though, there were signs that magical people had lived there: there was a purple stain on the ceiling from an over-enthusiastic attempt of my father's to make a gripe solution when I was a baby (I inherited my abysmal potions skills from him), dragons and griffins were magically carved into the lintel above the windows and over time the walls must have absorbed some magic because every so often tiny pictures of birds appeared on them and flew around the eaves. I'm sure this was true of the bed as well.

"Well it was a muggle-made bed," I told Tonks, "but it's had lots of magical people sleep in it, so I daresay it's assimilated a bit of magic."

Tonks sat up, lifted one of my arms and put it around her shoulders.

"You weren't conceived in this bed were you?" she asked a little cautiously. I smiled.

"Would that be weird?"

Tonks thought for a moment or two.

"Um, I suppose it's part of the history of the bed – not that weird." She didn't sound fully convinced.

"I wouldn't want to dwell on the thought though," I admitted. "But, I wasn't conceived in this bed. I was conceived in a field."

Tonks burst into ripples of melodic laughter.

"In a field! Prey tell, how did you glean this information?"

"My mother told me. That was a scarring conversation I can tell you."

"Haha! A field though. I feel distinctly unadventurous now."

"They got caught by the farmer."

Tonks laughed again even more exuberantly making her body jiggle pleasantly against mine.

"I love your parents. I wish I could have known them."

"I do too. They would have loved you to pieces."

I could imagine quite vividly how my parents would react to my bringing Tonks home to meet them. My mother would greet her warmly, offer her tea and ask if she was hungry, while my father would peer over a book with quiet intrigue. My mother would surely remark how beautiful Tonks was and ask what someone so lovely was doing with her son – in the nicest way possible of course. Tonks would no doubt comment on my mother's paintings and then she'd be off.

"Ah yes, Remus has told me you are also an artist, what kind of things do you do? Do you paint? Oh, we should take an easel up to the cow shed, you get some brilliant views from up there! You know Remus used to paint when he was a boy..."

Eventually, my father would work up the courage to speak to Tonks. He would probably ask her some obscure question about philosophy or ancient history, or ask her if she'd ever read A Brief History of Time. As any normal woman would, Tonks would smile politely and glance at me with a distinctly freaked out expression. I'm sure my parents would win her over by the end of the evening though. They'd both get drunk, have an argument over whether Mozart wrote 40 or 41 symphonies (no-one really knows but it was probably more than 50) which my father would settle by filling the room with magical roses and getting Marriage of Figgaro to blare out of the grandfather clock, then he and my mother would start dancing a ceilli and force Tonks and I to join in.

Tonks smiled happily, pleased by the idea that my parents would have liked her. I smiled back, but felt a weight of regret that the meeting I had imagined would never come to pass. I finished my coffee and turned back to the crossword. I just worked out 16 down when Tonks gave a deep sigh.

"We should probably get up," she said forlornly.

"Mm, probably," I said making no attempt to move and turning my attention to 17 down.

"Actually stay where you are I'd like to draw you." Tonks wriggled out of my arms and reached for her wand. She summoned her sketchbook and some pencils then sat with her sketchbook on her lap and, in an endearing and fantastically glamourous way, let the bedsheets fall to her hips as she drew. I watched her sketch my long nose with the scar that arched across it, my sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes. As always she made these awkward features look much better than they did in real life, but even with her charitable modifications, the artist was still infinitely more beautiful than her subject.

_You don't deserve her_, whispered the wolf. I hadn't heard his voice very much recently, perhaps because I'd been taking medication, perhaps because so much had been going on to keep my mind occupied. Today was the full moon though, so I wasn't surprised to hear him. Other pre-transformation symptoms were bothering me as well. Nausea, tension, but worst of all I could feel the wolf's tremendous murderous anger swelling at the back of my mind. His animalistic fury. His bloodthirsty yearning to destroy. With all my will power I suppressed it, but it was constantly there threatening to break out, making me edgy and irritable. Tonks had noticed the change in me as soon I woke up that morning, which is why we had spent so long in bed, she thought she could distract me for a while with her pleasant company. It did help a little. But while Tonks drew me and we sat in silence, flashes of the wolf's sick desires alighted in my mind. I looked through the window at the sky. It was cloudless and blue, no trace of the round pale moon that would soon hang there. I rung my hands together and thought of the agony I would experience as soon as it appeared, when the monster forces my body to take his form.

"Look towards me Remus," Tonks said. "I'm drawing your eyes." That's what she said, but there was a kindness in her voice that suggested she knew what I was thinking about, so really I think she just wanted to divert my attention.

She had been pretty successful at capturing my attention the past few days. I've generally been advised, by mediwitches and healers etc, to rest before a full moon, to conserve my energy and avoid any strenuous activity. I spent the few days preceding the January full moon doing exactly the opposite. As planned Sirius and I had gone to Ireland, and Tonks joined us for the weekend. Almost as soon as we arrived Sirius and Tonks seemed to turn into children. On Saturday, they built a rather impressive igloo in the garden while I repaired some of the tiles on the roof. Then they decided they wanted to build a hot tub. They spent all afternoon to think of a charm to stop the hot water melting the snow and must have built at least six tubs. When they started to complain that all the snow masonry was giving them frostbite I had a hunt through my collection of spell books for a charm that we could adapt. We managed to get it working so spent the evening like we were on one of those fancy Alpine holidays muggles go on: nearly naked in sub-zero temperatures, submerged in hot water, stargazing and drinking mulled wine. On Sunday, Sirius and I showed Tonks the Marauder's ruin, then the pair of them decided it would be hilarious to do some muggle baiting. You would have thought Tonks, a law enforcer, would have known better – but you'd be wrong, she was as excited about the idea as Sirius. Fortunately we were in the middle of the Irish countryside and even after walking two miles we didn't come across a soul. We apparated back to the house and made ourselves a Sunday roast instead. Then Sirius insisted we go down to the village pub so he could flirt with some of the local girls. I tried to argue against him, but he was adamant. So we charmed his hair red and gave him a beard, as we had done once before; Tonks changed her face so she looked just like a blonde Audrey Hepburn, and the three of us headed down to the pub. By happy coincidence, there was a live band playing, so in between bitters I got to introduce Tonks to Irish dancing.

On Monday and Tuesday Tonks had to work, so it was just Sirius's mischief I had to contend with, but she came over both evenings to spend the night. Nights which didn't involve much sleep. Like we were seventeen again, Tonks and I spent every night that week making love. There was a risk the lack of sleep would make the transformation worse, but by Heaven it was worth it.

_You don't deserve her!_ said the wolf again, bringing me heavily back to the present. The wolf snarled and growled in eager anticipation of the full moon and I felt an unpleasant shiver up my spine. I breathed deeply and ran my hand through my hair.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tonks asked, and I looked at her with some surprise. Her pretty face was marred with worry. I smiled reassuringly at her.

"No, but it's okay. Thank you."

Tonks still looked worried. She looked down at her drawing of me and added a few shadows under my eyes.

"You know, even if I didn't already know it was a full moon tonight, I would be able to tell from your face," she told me slightly hesitantly.

I swallowed. "I look different?"

"You feel different." Tonks continued to look down at the drawing as she spoke. "You feel colder and more earthy. And your eyes...they feel darker. I still feel the warmth in my chest when I look at them, but sometimes they feel more like someone pressing on my chest."

She took her eyes away from the drawing to look at my real face.

"It's like...like I'm looking at two people..." she added sightly nervously. It was in her nature to be honest, but for once I didn't really enjoy hearing what Tonks felt. She sensed my discomfort and started to look nervous and apologetic. She didn't voice her obvious regret at having confessed her feelings to me, and despite the impoliteness of it, I didn't say anything to comfort her. I just let the silence between us continue. It wasn't that I wanted her to feel bad, it was just that the thought that at the very moment there were two beings, a man and a monster, sitting next to Tonks disgusted me so much that I couldn't think of anything else. I wasn't even transformed but Tonks could see this retched creature inside me. I was paralysed by self-loathing. I glanced at the ugly scar on my shoulder where Greyback had bitten me. As I had grown the scar had stretched and warped adding to its repulsiveness. I balled my hands into fists and wished I was wearing a shirt. I looked towards my dressing gown hanging on the back of the bedroom door and silently summoned it. The tattered old thing flew across the room and landed on my lap. I put it on.

I got out of the bed and walked to the chest of drawers to check the time on my pocket watch.

"Are you angry with me?" said Tonks timidly. I turned around to face her. She had closed her sketch book and pulled the covers back over her, clutching them as if for protection.

"Of course not," I sincerely assured her. Tonks still looked upset, so I put on an air of brightness and suggested we have breakfast.

Sirius had already made himself a feast of scrambled eggs, bacon, black pudding, tomatoes, mushrooms and toast. He was sat in the lounge by the fire reading a book and jiggling his bare feet to a Jimmy Hendrix record.

"Oh there you are, I thought you two'd never get out of bed. Though I suppose you needed the rest eh Moony?" He gave me a sly grin and I rolled my eyes. I asked Sirius what his thoughts were for the full moon and he suggested we walk into the forrest to transform.

"Are you sure? I don't mind using the cellar..."

"Don't be ridiculous Moony, I'm not going to let you spend the full moon locked up in there!" Sirius snapped at me. "Now stop winging and go make your girlfriend some breakfast. Honestly, where are you manners?"

My stomach gave an anxious twist at the word 'girlfriend'.

"I wouldn't call her that, not yet..." I whispered. Sirius gave an exasperated groan which I took as my cue to leave.

After Tonks and I had eaten she perked up a bit. Sirius had decided to make an invigoration draught so set up a cauldron in the living room fireplace and Tonks chatted away while giving him a hand. She was quite a skilled potion maker, and while Sirius wasn't at all bad, he appreciated Tonks's keen eye for colours and quantities. While the two of them made the potion, to keep my mind occupied, I tested the limits of my transfiguration ability with a wooden dining chair. Wizards had for centuries been turning animals into objects, but it was notoriously more difficult to make the reverse transformation. Some thought it was impossible, but there were wizards who could manage it, Dumbledore for instance. The theory was that wizards couldn't introduce life, even though they could suspend it or take it away. I was skeptical. I reckoned it had more to do with the fact that human beings – even wizards – found the idea of life springing from inanimate objects difficult to understand. More gifted wizards tended to be more open minded, so perhaps the reason they could turn chairs into rabbits while others couldn't, was simply because they could entertain strange ideas. I tested my theory by trying to transfigure the chair into the most conceptually distinct objects I could. I'd managed to transfigure the chair into a pile of marbles which I thought was pretty good, but I was having trouble transfiguring it into a fried egg. It came out the right shape and colour – but was always made of wood.

"Whatcha doing over there Remus?" Tonks asked me. I picked up the wooden fried egg and took it to her.

"I'm trying to transfigure one of the dining chairs into a fried egg." I handed her my measly attempt. She looked at me like I was barmy.

"...why?" she asked me, with such drama and expression that I couldn't help but laugh. Sirius too sniggered as he stirred his bright blue potion.

"To test my transfiguration skills."

Tonks smiled and handed me back my chair/egg.

"You are weird," Tonks told me.

"You're seriously only realising that now?" Sirius asked her. "Now what am I adding now? Puffer fish eyes?"

"No, a leech you idiot," scolded Tonks throwing a leech at Sirius's face. With reflexes developed during his quidditch days Sirius caught it and dropped it into the cauldron.

Suddenly we heard a loud squark coming from the kitchen. It was too high-pitched to be Buckbeak so I reasoned it was an owl. I went quickly to the kitchen to find it flapping angrily outside the window. There were flecks of bird spittle on the window so the owl must have been pecking at it for quite a while. I opened the window and let the bird in. It settled on the draining rack next to the sink and glared at me with bright orange eyes. Apparently he was not pleased at being kept waiting outside in the freezing cold. I reached towards the letter tied to his leg but the bastard thing pecked hard at my hand drawing blood.

"Ow! Look it's not my fault I couldn't hear you, you should have flown round to the living room," I argued. I glanced around the kitchen and my eyes settled on the cupboard where I used to keep owl treats back when Artemis was alive. I had a root through it and found some squished at the back behind some canned beans. I gave a few of the treats to the owl which seemed to soften him up enough to let me take the letter.

Written in spiky but neat handwriting was a note from Snape.

_Lupin - _

_ Return to headquarters at once. _

_ SS_

He always signed his letters with 'SS', perhaps in case the letter was intercepted, but it just made me picture him hissing. I sighed and walked back into the living room so I could floo back to number twelve. While Tonks levitated the cauldron out of the fireplace Sirius snatched the letter from me to inspect it.

"What is this?" he spat disrespectfully at the note. "He's unabashedly _ordering_ you to go back. Who the hell does he think he is?"

Tonks read the note over Sirius's shoulder and uttered a similar puff of scorn.

"You know, I wouldn't go back at all," said Sirius. "I'd just write back 'Dear Snivellus, unfortunately I can't return to headquarters right now because, unlike some snot-nosed greasy-haired toe-rags, I have a life'."

"It might be important." I reached up and took a pinch of floo powder for the little pot on the mantle piece.

"Then why didn't he summon the rest of us?" Tonks astutely pointed out.

"He just wants to screw up your day," said Sirius. "He's still angry that you knew what the capital of Bolivia was and he didn't."

"Don't be ridiculous," I replied. "No-one could be that petty. Besides, he wasn't even wrong – La Paz _is_ the administrative capital..."

"Please can we not spend an hour talking about the capital of Boliva again!" Tonks interrupted. I smirked and threw the floo powder into the fire.

When I arrived at number twelve the kitchen was empty, so I went upstairs to the hall thinking Snape might be waiting there. Instead I bumped into Kreacher. Or to put it more accurately, tripped over him. I don't think I hurt him, but he made an awful whining noise all the same.

"Aaa-eee! Poor Kreacher! Forced to work for a blood-traitor and now a werewolf treads on him! Oh, if only Mistress were here. Poor Kreacher."

"I'm sorry Kreacher, I didn't see you..." I said pointlessly

"Aaa-eee! Mistress, the beast is trying to speak to Kreacher. Disgusting thing..."

Suddenly, like a ghost, Snape appeared at the garden room door. I jumped, which caused a little spark of amusement in Snape's eyes.

"I see Black has not managed to exercise any control over his elf. When I arrived he was attempting to put deadly nightshade into the milk."

"Oh dear," I remarked. Snape's thin dry lips twitched slightly as if he was suppressing a smirk.

"I suppose when Black is here it is easier to stop him," said Snape. Realising what Snape was getting at, I said nothing in reply to him.

"Where is Black?" Snape pressed accusingly. "What cause could be so important to make him shirk his duties manning headquarters and risk being caught? Please tell me Lupin, for I am at a loss as to why such an important mission hasn't been disclosed to the rest of the Order."

I clenched my jaw and maintained a defiant silence.

"Silence is not appropriate Lupin, for you are only incriminating yourself," Snape snapped. I sighed with some exasperation.

"Is this what you have called me back for? To scold me?" I asked irritably. It was too near the full moon for me to make the effort to be polite. Snape scowled and pushed his lank hair behind his ears.

"I've summoned you back to deliver the wolfsbane Dumbledore insisted that I make for you. Today is the full moon isn't it? You have to start taking it tomorrow."

I felt a flood of guilt.

"Oh. I am sorry Severus," I said quietly. "Thank you."

"I left it in there." Snape gestured to the garden room. I peered over his shoulder and sure enough there was a crate of dark green glass bottles on the marble coffee table. I walked into the garden room and pulled out one of the bottles so I could take it with me back to Ireland. Each of the bottles had been neatly corked to keep them fresh. Snape may have been a cantankerous git, but was it really just out of duty to Dumbledore that he made wolfsbane for me?

"So where is Black?" Snape pressed like an angry schoolteacher with a disobedient student. No, actually it wasn't like that. It was like we were at school again. Snape often asked me questions like this when we were at school. 'So Potter and Black are in Hogsmeade are they? At this time of night?' 'Black broke into the kitchens did he? And you couldn't stop him?' 'I'm fine Lupin! No thanks to you. I'd have thought a prefect would have stepped in to stop them – but apparently not.'. I closed my eyes and sighed. I'd spent a lot of time at school covering up for Sirius and James, lying for them, pretending that I hadn't noticed their wrongdoings. Most of the time it didn't matter. Sneaking to Hogsmeade wasn't exactly an Azkaban worthy offence – and nine times out of ten I went with them anyway. But even though they never did anything malicious, it was still wrong and hypocritical for a prefect to turn a blind eye; and occasionally they did things I didn't approve of, bullying Snape for example, but I didn't step in to stop them. At school, Snape knew exactly how to bring out my guilt. It seemed he hadn't lost his touch.

"I'm not going to tell you Severus," I told Snape careful not to look at him in case he tried to read my mind. "He needed some time away. There's nothing wrong with that."

"What if he gets caught?" Snape argued. "He could expose the Order. Or get a kiss from a Dementor, how would you feel then Lupin?"

"That won't happen," I said turned back to Snape, but still avoiding his eyes.

"I hope for your sake it doesn't," he said scathingly.

I returned to Ireland with a bottle of the wolfsbane and a weight of guilt on my shoulders. I told Sirius and Tonks what Snape had wanted and warned Sirius to check all of his food for poison it just in case Kreacher had been at it. Sirius just shrugged nonchalantly and accused Snape of being a busybody, which was exactly how I expected him to react. Sirius rarely put much thought into what the consequences of his actions would be, the future didn't frighten him. Whatever would happen he would deal with it, was Sirius's attitude.

At about half five when the sun started to set, Sirius and I prepared to walk out to the forrest. Tonks made me a strengthening cup of tea while I changed out of my clothes and into an enormous fur coat of Sirius's. Sirius transformed into his dog form and scampered around the kitchen, barking and generally acting like a canine who's gorged on chocolate frogs. I glanced out of the kitchen window. The red sky was almost completely obscured by cloud and it had started to snow again.

"You're kind of cute as a dog Sirius," said Tonks as Sirius jumped onto the kitchen table. Tonks reached out and ruffled his ears. "Don't you agree Remus?"

I narrowed my eyes at Sirius.

"I'm more of a cat person I think."

Tonks laughed and Sirius jumped off the table. As the dog flew though the air he transformed back into a man so that when Sirius landed he was human again.

"Moony! I'm offended!"

I finished my tea and Sirius put on his cloak.

"Ready?" he asked me.

I looked out of the window again and groaned.

"Urgh, I'm going to freeze," I complained.

"What are you on about? You'll have fur."

"I mean before and after then. Your fine, you can transform in your clothes."

"Here Remus." Tonks skipped over to me with her wand drawn. She opened the coat a little so that she could point her wand tip at the silk lining.

"Tepido," she said and instantly the inside of the coat began to warm. "That'll last till the morning."

I smiled in thanks and admiration. Tonks grinned and reached between the buttons of the coat to tickle my bare ribs. I laughed and jumped back from her.

"See you when you get back." She leant forward and gave me a kiss. But even before our kiss was over I felt a ripple through my spine and a twitch in my shoulder. I pulled away from her with a gasp of pain.

"Sorry, Tonks we need to go," Sirius said recognising the signs and opening the kitchen door. Sirius and I left a slightly concerned looking Tonks behind and trudged through my snow covered garden to the forrest. Buckbeak came with us, ruffling his feathers nervously every time I moaned in pain as the full moon started to have its effect on my body. We reached the deepest part of the forrest just as the sun disappeared below the horizon leaving only ghostly moonlight. Sirius transformed and wandered off a bit to give me space to transform.

It was a difficult transformation, but they always were, especially without wolfsbane. I leant against a tree and screamed as the wolf forced fur through my skin, claws from my fingers, teeth from my jaw and thoughts of murder and carnage into my mind. When the thoughts became so violent and vivid and sickening I lost consciousness.

When my awareness returned I was still in the wolf's body, which meant that Sirius's presence had done its calming trick. He was sitting on the other side of a fallen tree watching me with curious eyes. I was lying on the snowy ground so lifted myself onto my paws. I was happy to find my coat was extra thick, so I hardly felt the cold at all. I leapt over the fallen tree and skidded to a halt in front of Padfoot. I gave a deep but playful growl to let him know everything was okay. Padfoot barked happily in reply.

Padfoot, Buckbeak and I roamed the forest until sunrise the next day. Just like when we were at school, I actually enjoyed the night: we had endless space to race through without having to worry about running into any people. We didn't have to worry about the cold either. We played games and joked and chased deer. It was fun.

The transformation back was actually more painful than the transformation from man to wolf. It was as if the wolf was angry it hadn't been able to taste blood during the night, thanks to Sirius, and didn't want to relinquish my body. After I transformed back I collapsed into the snow exhausted and feeling like I'd been beaten half to death. The fur coat was hanging from a nearby branch so I crawled over to it and pulled it down over me. Tonks's charm had lingered and the coat was pleasantly warm on my ice cold skin. I curled up into it and started to fall asleep. Before I could though, Sirius came to wake me and take me back to the house.

"Come on Moony, you can sleep when we get back," Sirius said shaking me gently. I sat up and Sirius held out a pair of boots for me. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," I replied taking the boots and shoving my bare feet into them. "And I've got such stomach ache."

"I told you you shouldn't have eaten that badger."

"I didn't want to seem ungrateful."

Buckbeak had killed the badger, Sirius hadn't been terribly pleased, but Buckbeak had offered me a bit of it.

"He's a hippogriff Moony, he doesn't know what gratitude is."

Buckbeak was scratching his claws against a nearby tree and seemed not to be paying any attention to Sirius. Though Sirius could call Buckbeak any number of rude names and Buckbeak didn't mind, which was unusual for a hippogriff being such proud creatures, apparently even non-human animals were softened by Sirius's charms.

"Yes he does," I replied. "If I hadn't have eaten it he would have been offended, and it's taken such a long time for him to trust me I didn't want to spoil it. Besides I only had a tiny bit."

Sirius rolled his eyes and helped me to my feet. Suddenly Buckbeak gave a quiet but distinctly perturbed crow. A crow that meant there was danger close by. Sirius and I fell silent and cast our eyes around the glade. I heard a faint crunch of snow somewhere over my left shoulder. I quickly took my wand from my pocket. Sirius drew his as well and peered through the trees.

"There's someone watching us," he said in the quietest of whispers. I put my wand to my temple.

"Teleskopos," I whispered and suddenly the forest a hundred feet away felt like it was only twenty. At first all I saw were trees, then I saw a shadow. A witch appeared from behind a tree. She had wild tangled hair, demonic staring eyes and blood red lips which were parted in a sinister smile. I couldn't fail to recognise Sirius's cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. She shot a curse towards Sirius and I. I blinked away the teloskopos charm and shoved Sirius to the ground so that the curse hit a tree behind us.

"Stupify!" Sirius yelled shooting a curse towards Bellatrix. A cackle of her laughter echoed through the forrest. Sirius ran to Buckbeak, jumped onto the hippogriff's back and took off into the air.

"Sirius wait!" I yelled, but too late. Sirius and Buckbeak flew after her. I was in no state to run after them. I scanned the forrest for movement, saw a blur of black running through the trees and immediately apparated in that direction. I landed roughly. Apparating when tired is not really a good idea and it was more that likely that I'd left bits of my organs behind, but there wasn't time to worry. The black blur I had seen wasn't Bellatrix but Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix was duelling with Sirius and Buckbeak a little way off. I stared at Dolohov with shock. He looked back at me with equal surprise. Obviously he had no idea I would be there. He shot a curse at me. I reacted a little slowly, but managed to deflect it in time.

"Oppugno!" I yelled and Dolohov was flung backwards through the air into a tree. He landed in a heap at the base of the tree and I took a deep breath. It was especially draining to perform magic straight after a transformation, and every spell left me breathless. I needed Tonks. She was the only auror among us and an exceptional dueller. Thinking about the last few nights we had spent together, I conjured a patronus. I gave it a message and the giant silver osprey flew back towards the house. In the time it had taken me to send the message Dolohov had gotten to his feet and sent a curse at me. I jumped out of the way just in time and retaliated. We duelled furiously. My body protested every time I made it run after him, but I was determined not to let him get away. I managed to hit him with another blasting curse flinging him ten feet into the air. He crashed into the snow some distance away and I forced my aching legs to run after him. Dolohov dragged himself to his feet and while he stumbled around I aimed a stunner at him. But the bastard managed to dodge it. He whipped round and hit me with a hex that felt like an anvil hitting my chest. I stopped and clutched my chest. I couldn't breathe. It was like a vice was being clamped over my lungs. I gasped desperately for air. Dolohov laughed.

"Expelliarmus!" He cried plucking my wand from my hand. He walked towards me while I choked and fought for breath. Every time I tried to suck in air it felt like the invisible vice tightened.

"Not normally this easy to beat you Lupin," Dolohov jeered. "But I suppose you're tired from the full moon...Hardly seems fair to kill you now, with you in such a weakened state. But I won't let that stop me."

Dolohov pointed his wand at my face and bared his crooked yellow teeth. Still suffocating, I started to feel dizzy and lent against a tree to stop myself falling over.

"You are the reason I spent the last fifteen years in Azkaban!" Spit flew from Dolohov's mouth he screamed and seemed utterly mad. "Fifteen years in Hell! Tortured by such horrible thoughts...You've NO IDEA!" He pounded his own hands against his head and scratched at his blinded eye.

"And I was a great wizard! I could have done great things and you – you piece of mudblood filth – you took that away!"

He raised his wand and was about to kill me. I couldn't say anything because I couldn't breathe, I didn't have my wand and I didn't trust my skills at wandless wordless magic. I grabbed the nearest heavy object I could find – a large hunk of flint – and threw it at him. It hit him in the head knocking him backwards and gauging out a big cut on the side of his face. He dropped his wand and put his hands to his bleeding face. I darted forward and grabbed my wand.

_Stupify!_ I thought, still unable to speak. Dolohov fell unconscious to the ground. I felt I was about to pass out as well. I needed to breathe. I tried to think what the counter curse would be. Would _anapneo_ help? I pointed my wand to my chest and thought it but nothing happened. Then a weird idea occurred to me. I don't know what made me think it, but I suddenly thought of the Celtic curse Tonks had told me about, where the curser had to kiss the eyes of his enemy to lift the curse. I went to Dolohov and picked up his hand, then placed it on my chest. Instantly air flooded into my lungs. I dropped Dolohov's hand and with enormous releif inhaled great lungfuls of air. Then I looked around for Sirius.

I could hear Bellatrix's high-pitched laughter which wasn't a good sign. I saw a flap of Buckbeak's wings not that far away so apparated towards them. Sirius was still on Buckbeak duelling with Bellatrix who stood on a boulder below them. The pair of them seemed equally matched and equally hell bent on cursing the other into oblivion. Shocks of colour and light fired through the air. Sometimes they collided with each other emiting a crash like thunder and ricochetting off into the trees. Other times Sirius and Bellatrix had to steer curves of white light to deflect each other's hexes and curses. It was terrifying to watch. Bellatrix shot a hundred daggers at Sirius. Buckbeak had to swoop and spin through the air to avoid them. Sirius tried to smother Bellatrix with a blizzard he raised from the snow on the ground, but Bellatrix melted it with an explosion of flames.

To try to help I fired a stunner at Bellatrix, but it missed. I'd distracted her enough for one of Sirius's hexes to hit her though and she was flung into the air, span around a few times then slammed back onto the boulder. She yelled out in pain and frustration. Buckbeak flew to the ground and Sirius jumped off. He ran towards Bellatrix, who'd already jumped up and pointed her wand at Sirius. They two of them started to duel again. Buckbeak moved in front of me, blocking my view of the battle. I ran forward, each stride taking it's toll on my already enervated body. I heard Sirius suddenly scream in agony. I came to the other side of Buckbeak, who had risen onto his hind legs and was angrily jabbing his claws in the air, and saw Sirius on the ground writhing in agony.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix yelled, and fresh waves of torture hit my friend. In rage Buckbeak launched himself into the air and lunged at Bellatrix. She jumped out of the hippogriff's path and I cursed her. My curse caused her to shudder and twitch and cry out as if she'd been electrocuted. I felt no pity for her. "Expelliarmus!" Her wand was snapped out of her hand. Suddenly I heard a sound like a chain being struck against a metal shield and to my left I saw a cloud of black shapes, like horse-shoes, rise into the air. I squinted slightly and saw that it was a curse sent by Dolohov towards Tonks. My stunner obviously hadn't been very effective if he'd woken already. Tonks cast an impressive protegean charm and the horseshoes all shattered when they hit the bubble of white light she had conjured.

"Remus!" Sirius suddenly cried. I turned back to find Bellatrix had seized her wand and was about to curse me. I tried to stun her. She deflected my hex and we duelled. Bellatrix was as deadly as she was insane and it took all of my skill to keep her from killing me. You cannot deflect or shield yourself from a killing curse, but they are hard to cast, as well has requiring definite and unwavering intent to kill, the spell takes time to form in the mind, so when duelling with someone who really wants to kill you, not only do you have to deflect their hexes you have to keep hexing them frequently enough to stop them being able to cast an avadra kedavra. I don't know how long we were duelling, but I was loosing energy. She would beat me soon if I didn't think of something.

I ducked behind a tree to catch my breath and think. I peered around and saw Sirius standing behind Buckbeak who was shrieking at Bellatrix and warning her not to come any closer to him or Sirius. I came out from behind the tree and pointed my wand at one of the ancient pine trees next to Bellatrix. A glowing blue thread extended from the end of my wand towards the tree. I whipped my wand and the blue thread wrapped around the tree like a lasso. Bellatrix looked at the blue thread and wrinkled her nose with confusion. She hexed me, but Sirius deflected it for me. I hooked the blue thread around four other trees, then gave the thread a tug. The trees suddenly bent towards Bellatrix and twisted together trapping her in a wooden cage. Bellatrix angrily shot blasting hexes at the trees but they were old and strong and her hexes just bounced off them back in her direction. Bellatrix screamed in frustration and shot a curse at me. I deflected it and Sirius disarmed Bellatrix.

"What are you doing here Lestrange?!" Sirius demanded angrily.

"I might ask the same of you! Every Dementor in the country is after your soul, why aren't you hiding under Dumbledore's robes?"

"I'm not a coward," Sirius retorted. "I don't need another wizard to look after me."

Bellatrix scowled at Sirius's implication and spat at him. Sirius rushed towards Bellatrix, stuck his wand arm through a gap in the trees that trapped her and pressed his wand against her neck. Bellatrix flinched.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius roared. His face was contorted with rage and hatred. He looked nothing like himself. In fact, he looked like his father. Bellatrix didn't answer so Sirius hit her with a stinging hex. Bellatrix yelped in momentary pain, but then cackled.

"What was that? You're pathetic..."

"I don't want to curse you Bella," Sirius hissed. "I find torture disgusting. Almost as disgusting as I find you. But I need to know why you're here, and if you don't tell me..." Sirius pressed his wand harder against Bellatrix's neck so she was forced to take a step back.

"I won't have much choice will I?" Sirius aded in a whisper and a flicker of fear crossed Bellatrix's face.

I suddenly heard Tonks scream, I looked anxiously towards her, but the next second Dolohov had apparated next to Bellatrix's cage. He was panting and his face was still bleeding profusely. He blasted Sirius away from Bellatrix's cage. I tried to stun Dolohov but before my hex reached him he had slipped his hand through a gap in the trees to Bellatrix and the pair disapparated.

"No!" Sirius shouted in rage.

A second later Tonks arrived on her broom. She jumped of an gave a roar of frustration. For a brief moment her hair turned flame-red, the colour Tonks had told me felt to her like pins pressing into her skin. She took a deep breath and morphed it back to its natural brown.

"I'm sorry Tonks, I should have been able to stun him," I said.

"No, it was my fault, I had the chance to stun Dolohov but I tried to bind him with ropes instead and he knew a counter-curse," Tonks explained. "Are you alright?"

I nodded.

"Sirius?"

"I'm fine, just pissed off," Sirius replied getting up off the ground. "You?"

"Same. Not hurt, just angry."

"Why the Hell were they here? Were they looking for us?"

"They might have been looking for me," I said hoarsely. "Dolohov knows I live in Ireland."

"He wouldn't be able to find your house though, not with the fidelius charm," said Sirius.

"They were still awfully close," Tonks said with concern. "Are you sure you're okay Remus? You look terrible."

"I'm very tired," I replied. Tonks walked over to me and put her arm underneath my shoulder, just as she had done in Germany.

"Let's get back to the house," she said. "Sirius, could you bring my broom?"

"Sure," Sirius reached out and grabbed the broom form the air then walked over to Buckbeak. Buckbeak knelt down to allow Sirius to climb onto his back. As Sirius and Buckbeak launched into the air Tonks and I apparated back to the house.

"Do you really think they were here looking for you?" Tonks asked me after we arrived in the living room. I let her go and walked over to the sofa.

"It's the most obvious explanation," I said with little feeling. I was too tired to be as worried or angry as Sirius and Tonks were. Tonks sighed again and ran her hand through her hair.

"They were so close to the house, they must know..."

"They can't. The house will be invisible to them. Only the secret keeper knows where I live."

I lay down on the sofa and felt relief that my aching bones could rest.

"Aren't you worried?" Tonks pressed.

Before I could answer Sirius arrived back and came into the living room with as serious an expression as Tonks. They started to discuss what had happened, the mistakes each of them had made that led to Dolohov's and Lestrange's escape and why they had been there in the first place. I felt that really it had been my fault they had escaped; Dolohov was right, he had out-duelled me very easily, my stunner hadn't done a very good job keeping him unconscious and I missed several opportunities to stun Bellatrix. But I was too tired to talk about it.

"What do you think we should do Remus?" Tonks asked me walking over to the sofa where I lay and running her fingers through my hair. I took her hand and held it gently.

"Tonks darling, I'm exhausted. I can't talk about this now."

"Yes, let him sleep Tonks," Sirius told her. As if Sirius had given me permission, I immediately fell asleep.


	67. Faran The Travelled Werewolf

67 Faran the travelled werewolf

When I awoke the sun was already setting. Tonks had removed my fur coat and boots and replaced them with a thick warm blanket. She'd also made me a cough potion and put it on the side table next to the sofa.

"You were coughing a lot in your sleep and I don't want you to get ill like last time," she explained when I asked her about it. It did hurt slightly when I breathed in, either a remnant of Dolohov's curse or a side effect from the full moon, or most likely a product of both. I took a sip of the warm red liquid. It was sweet and a bit spicy, and instantly soothed my aching chest. I thanked Tonks and with some effort sat up so that I could drink the rest of it. While I drank Tonks stood in the middle of the living room with her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Her jeans were black and she wore a dark red polo-neck jumper with them. Her hair was short and jet black and her features rather austere looking. It was the look she wore for work. I could hear a man shouting, or at least talking very loudly, in the kitchen. I gestured towards the kitchen and raised my eyebrows.

"Sirius is telling Snape what happened." Tonks looked at me with wide eyes and I instantly understood what she meant. No doubt she had come into the living room to escape the blood-bath.

"How long have they been...talking?"

Tonks checked her watch. "Oh, I'd say about an hour and ten minutes." We both sniggered, even though it really was quite serious. I finished the potion and placed the goblet back on the side table. Then lay back down on the sofa. With a small mischievous smirk, Tonks approached the sofa lifted up my blanket and lay down underneath it with me.

"How do you feel?" she asked lying on her side so she could look at me.

"Tired still."

Tonks ran her hand gently over my chest, when it reached my heart I gently placed my hand over hers and held it there.

"I'm sorry they got away," I said. "I feel like it was my fault. I should have been able to stun Dolohov, I was just..."

"No, Remus it wasn't your fault. You had literally _just_ transformed, and even then you're still one of the best duellers I've ever seen."

I gave her a half-smile in thanks. I couldn't give a complete smile as being a good dueller wasn't really a skill I was pleased to have. While I couldn't deny it had bee very useful, it was a skill borne from a violent life I would rather not have had.

I could tell from the look in Tonks's eyes that she sensed my unhappiness. She had such expressive eyes. I'd spent many of the small hours of the past few nights gazing into them while the two of us lay silently in bed together. Right now they were glassy with concern and sympathy. She rested her head on my shoulder and we lay still listening to Sirius arguing with Snape. After a while I fell asleep again. With Tonks's warm body wrapped around me, I felt so comfortable I couldn't help but drift off again. I woke when Sirius marched into the living room turning the air blue with the descriptions he thought could be applied to Snape. Tonks was still lying next to me. I got the feeling she had fallen asleep as well. She wriggled out from beside me and perched on the edge of the sofa. I sat up to give her more space. Sirius paced angrily in front of us twirling his wand in his hand continuing his sweary tirade.

"That utter bastard. Next time I see him I am going to curse him so violently the only way he'll be able to absorb nutrients is via a tube shoved up his backside, a big fat tube, and I'll be doing the shoving."

"What a delightful image," I said sarcastically.

"He went on and on and on about how I shouldn't be here, how I shouldn't have let myself be seen, how I'm compromising your safety Remus by drawing attention to your house -"

I was mildly surprised concern for my safety had featured in Snape's scolding.

"He said we shouldn't have been in the forrest, that you should have transformed in the cellar – he's such a barbaric git – how could I have let you transform in there? Then he criticised my duelling ability. If I'd have killed Bellatrix he would have berated me for that as well!"

"Did he say anything about what the rest of the Order thought? Does anyone know why they were here in the first place?" I asked cutting Sirius's rant short.

"None of them really know!" Sirius snapped. "The most likely theory is that they were here looking for you."

"Really?" Tonks asked. She looked at me with a crease between her eyebrows. "I mean, I know Dolohov wants...to kill you. But would it really be in the Death Eater's interest to kill you now? It'd be quite a high profile murder. Would they want to draw that kind of attention at this stage?"

"Tonks is right," agreed Sirius, "war would quickly follow an assassination like that. But maybe they're more prepared for a war than we realise."

"How can they be? They haven't got the prophecy yet, and Snape says nothing will happen until they've got that," said Tonks.

"Dolohov was definitely going to kill me," I told Tonks, who flinched at the word 'kill'.

"Maybe they know something. We should increase security in the department of mysteries. And I must write to Harry – ask him how his occulemency is going. In fact I'll do that now." Sirius at once marched over to my desk and began to hunt around for some parchment and a quill. I sighed heavily. A weight of worry pressed down on my already aching body. I desperately didn't want a war. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life fighting and running from people who wanted to kill me. I didn't want to die. Most of the time, I tried not to think about it. I deluded myself that this cold war between the Death Eaters and the Order wasn't really happening, that it was just a weird dream – that the time I spent with Tonks was what was real. But the delusion was getting harder and harder to maintain.

Tonks next to me buried her face in her hands, her thoughts obviously following a similar trail. I rubbed my hand comfortingly along her shoulder.

"I have to go back to work in a minute." She revealed her tired, sombre face. "They let me have the past few days off, but only if I did some night shifts..."

"I didn't know that," I said aghast. "You didn't have to take the days off for me Tonks..."

"I wanted to," she insisted. "I'm dreading it now though. It's going to be manic when I report what happened here -" I opened my mouth to comment, but Tonks read my mind "- don't worry I wont implicate you, I'll just say I was visiting a friend."

"Scrimgeor is going to be mental," Tonks continued. "He's a bit of a nutcase really. And not the charming kind, the scary kind."

"Really? I thought you said he was alright."

"He's a good auror and he's got a heart underneath all the shouting, but he's got a foul temper. It makes things stressful sometimes. Ever since the Azkaban escape he's been a Howler. Once I tell him the Death Eaters were here, so close to a muggle town... he'll have us working all hours." Tonks twisted her hands together in her lap.

"You're not enjoying your work?" I asked her gently. She smiled briefly as if to say that I'd asked just the right question.

"I don't enjoy it much anymore, no," she confessed sadly. "I feel really bad about it because a few years ago I was sure being an auror was what I wanted to do."

"Go on," I encouraged.

"When I'm by myself working on a case, I love it. I love working things out. Searching for the truth. And hunting down a suspect can be terrifying – but I've seen some magic that I never thought possible, I mean truly astonishing magic. It's exciting. And I like to do good, I like to help people. But at the moment everyone is just running around like mad men, going to pieces over the escape, the ministers are constantly breathing down our necks and trying to interfere, and the bloody press are constantly snooping around. Half the time I feel like I'm not actually doing any auror work at all, I'm just trying to control the mayhem."

As she spoke her hands moved dynamically through the air conveying her passion and frustration, allowing me to picture clearly in my head cloaked aurors running around the department, parchments and clues in their hands, frantic looks on their faces, with purple-haired level-headed Tonks lost in the middle.

"Fudge and his sycophants are the worst. They constantly pressuring us, but most of the mess we're in is their fault anyway. They just make it impossible to actually get anything done."

"It sounds like you just hate the department, rather than the job itself."

"I hate the whole Ministry. It's a farce it really is."

"You're not wrong. Arthur says the same thing. But it's important that the Order have people on the inside, and you're a brilliant auror with or without the rest of them. You're still doing good work there. Don't let the dickless gobshites make you feel bad."

Tonks chuckled. "Dickless gobshites, I'm going to use that one." She checked the little silver watch she wore around her neck and sighed.

"I better go," she said with palpable regret. "I probably wont get to see you much this week."

My heart sank at the thought. It had been so nice to see her everyday, to wake up with her beside me every morning. Tonks ran one hand through my hair and down the side of my face, her fingers tracing the shape of my cheek. She leant towards me and gently kissed me. Perhaps she had only intended a gentle kiss, but if I really wasn't going to see her until next week, I wanted more than that. I put my arms around her and pulled her towards me.

Once Tonks left I dressed and got up. I really wanted to go up to my bed and sleep again, but there were things I needed to do, the first of which was to take some wolfsbane. I went to the kitchen and found the bottled that I'd brought back from Grimmauld place. I poured myself a glass and took it back to the living room. Sirius had finished his letter to Harry and was sealing the envelope. I expected him to ask me to take it down to the post office for me, as obviously Sirius couldn't post the letter himself. But instead Sirius glanced at the wollfsbane in my hand and put the letter in his pocket to send later. Perhaps he was worried about asking too much of me the day after the full moon. I looked at Sirius's serious grey eyes and we silently shared a hundred thoughts. Our fears of war and loosing the ones we loved, our shame and frustration that both of us had let the Death Eaters get passed us. I took a deep breath and dropped my gaze to the disgusting potion in my hand. I took a moment to gather courage, then gulped it down in one go.

"I'm going to go down to the Sleezy Wench in Knockturn Alley." I told Sirius as the foul taste faded from my mouth. "There's bound to be someone there who knows why the Death Eaters feel confident enough to start assassinating the Order."

"Now? Wouldn't you rather rest a bit longer?"

"The sooner the better I think. Give me the letter I'll post it while I'm there."

Sirius nodded and handed me the letter.

"Take it easy okay," Sirius said his voice full of concern. "Don't get into trouble."

An hour or so later I was wrapped up in a cloak walking down Knockturn Alley. It was pouring with rain. The _imperveus_ charm I'd placed on my cloak was struggling to cope with the downpour and my shoulders were getting damp. As always Knockturn Alley was dark and unwelcoming, with a scattering of cloaked figures lurking in the shadows. The shops were shut but the various dangerous and disgusting wares were visible through grimy windows. I made it to the Sleezy Wench, heaved open the heavy wooden doors and stepped out of the rain.

The pub was crowded with witches and wizards hunched over tables discussing the issues of the day. Most patrons were too busy conversing with their comrades to notice me, but a few looked up from their flaggons to peer at me with suspicion. I couldn't help but stand out in Knockturn alley. Even with my scruffy frayed robes and scars on my face, I still didn't look like anyone who'd be caught breaking the law, which was very helpful when I _did_ break the law as it meant no-one suspected me, but in Knockturn alley anyone who didn't look like a convict stood out like a giant at a goblin fair.

I ignored the stares and walked to the bar. I ordered a whiskey. Then, very discreetly, I put my wand to the underside of my ear and whispered a charm. For a moment or two I felt an icy coldness creep inside my ear and then all the voices in the room suddenly seemed almost deafeningly loud. I grimaced involuntarily. Once I had gotten used to the volume I turned around and looked at the the people in the pub. When I focused my eyes on a group of people their conversation become crystal clear to me, like I was sitting right next to them, allowing me to listen in. Most conversations were not very interesting considering my current purpose, although all of them were interesting for other reasons. One witch and wizard, obviously a married couple, were arguing about what to do about their son's addiction to watching memories in their penseive; another group were bragging about how many muggles they'd hexed that week; another table were discussing the recent anti-muggle protests and whether the Ministry would pay any attention to them. One table was particularly interesting. It was in the far corner of the pub behind a wooden screen. Three tall figures sat round it. I couldn't see their faces from this distance and I didn't recognise the voices of the two who were speaking, but I could tell immediately that they were Death Eaters.

"He seems more determined these days," said one. "He must know something. Perhaps he's got into the boy's head."

"It will be time for us to take action soon," said the other. "Has he said who will lead the heist?"

"No, but it's obvious who he'll choose. That backstabbing bastard worms his way into all the Dark Lord's plans. Plus he's got all those connections."

The heist they were talking about could well have been to steal the prophecy, and the 'boy' was obviously Harry. I took a gulp of whiskey and silently urged them to mention a date of this proposed heist.

"You know he sent Bella and that other one, I can't remember his name-"

"Dolohov. Yes I know. He sent them to Ireland."

"What for?"

"The boys father used to go there in the Summer sometimes apparently. The Dark Lord wanted to know if he hid that weapon of his there."

Weapon? They must have been talking about James, but what weapon were they talking about? As far as I knew James had never carried any sort of magical weapon with him. I would have to ask Sirius.

"Do you think they found it?"

"Of course not. Bella is hopeless at those sorts of missions and Dolohov is an idiot. He only insisted he go on the mission because he thinks that werewolf lives in Ireland."

"What werewolf?"

"The one that worked at Hogwarts."

"_Remus_ _Lupin?_" I recognised the voice of the third man immediately. In shock I gripped my whiskey glass so tightly it smashed in my hand, forcing pieces of alcohol soaked glass into my palm. It was Leohnard, the vampire who had vowed to kill me. I quickly turned around to face the bar in case he looked up to see who had broken their glass. I stood perfectly still and silently panicked. He can't have seen me walk in, otherwise he would have confronted me already. But if he recognised me now I was dead. In my mind I saw his acid green eyes and remembered how vivid with fury they had been when I had stopped him from biting Tonks. Before I could stop myself I thought of all the horrors of that night in germany. All the painful memories he had forced me to relive, attacking his court to stop them from killing me, and waking the next morning with broken ribs and stab wounds covered in vampire blood. Leohnard was one of the world's deadliest vampires, with a relish for torturing his victims before sucking them dry, and I have killed his court. Merlin only knows what he would want to do to me in revenge.

"Remus Lupin lives in Ireland?" I heard Leohnard ask, the sound of his voice making my heart pound.

"Yes, at least that's what Dolohov said."

The charm I'd placed on my ear began to fade and the voices got quieter. My hand pulsed with pain and I glanced at it. Blood was dribbling from the wound onto the bar and a bit of glass was sticking out of my palm. I carefully but quickly pulled the glass out then put my injured hand into my pocket. It was typical that it was my right hand I had injured. If a duel broke out now, when I could only use my left hand, I'd never make it. I had to get out without being noticed. I reach for my wand with my left hand and discreetly pulled out of my belt. I pointed my wand at the broken glass on the bar and silently vanished it before anyone could notice.

"What is Dolohov's connection with Lupin?" I heard Leohnard ask. The charm on my ear was nearly gone so I could only just hear him, but even then I could hear the intrigue in his voice. No doubt the Death Eaters were about to reveal my past to Leohnard, but the charm on faded before I could hear what they had to say. But I didn't care. I wanted to leave. I had to leave. My past probably fascinated Leohnard, but if he realised I was only a few feet away then depriving me of a future would become his primary interest. I started to plan how to leave the pub. I was frightened to even turn around in case he was looking in my direction.

I decided that dissaparating was probably the safest thing to do. I was preparing to leave and had started thinking of the front door of number twelve when I felt someone slap their hand on my shoulder.

I looked towards them, terrified that it was Leohnard. But it wasn't. I didn't know who it was. He had red hair, small round glasses and a neatly trimmed moustache.

"It's you isn't it?" he said in an urgent voice. "Lerian."

I opened my mouth in surprise and stared at the red haired young man. Lerian, or 'the learned one', was the name Greer had given me the night I had spent the full moon with his pack. This young man must have been one of the other werewolves. He smiled when he saw that I knew what he was talking about.

"I'm...I'm Faran," he admitted in a whisper. Faran had no scars from self-inflicted scratches and bites like I did, so he had probably taken wolfsbane ever since he was bitten. He was also very finely dressed. I got the impression that he took great lengths to hide his affliction from the rest of the world. I looked at his blue eyes and they suddenly seemed familiar. I remembered the wolf with reddish fur who had stood up to Strenga that night in the forrest. I remembered that Faran, 'the travelled one', had been one of the wolves on wolfsbane. He had been one of the few who had said goodbye to me when I left.

"I can't talk here," I said in a whisper. I was keenly aware that Leohnard could recognise me at any moment. "I need to leave. But if you come with me now we can talk."

Faran looked mildly perplexed but nodded. My injured hand stung with pain so I balled it into a fist inside my pocket. It was now or never. I took hold of Faran's elbow and positioned him on my left, between Leohnard and I, so that if Leohnard looked up he wouldn't see me, he would only see Faran.

"What the-?" Faran began. But I'd already started pulling him towards the exit. Once outside the pub I let him go but then started to half-walk half-run back towards Diagon Alley.

"Wait! What's going on?" Faran demanded. I didn't answer and Faran followed me. Once under the warm lights of Diagon Alley I felt safer. I slowed my pace and looked at Faran. He was staring at me like I was mad.

"Why are we running?"

"What's your real name?" I asked ignoring his question. Faran gave a meek smile. Clearly he didn't want to tell me. He glanced at the pouring rain we were standing in. I had been so focused on getting away from Leohnard I hadn't even noticed it was still raining.

"Let's get out of the rain. The Leaky Cauldron?" suggested Faran.

The Leaky Cauldron was loud and busy and brightly lit and could have been a million miles away from the Sleezy Wench. Unfortunately it wasn't a million miles away, and consequently not far enough from Leohnard as I would have liked, but I needed to know what Faran wanted to say. So I bought another whiskey, a double, and asked Faran how I could help him. He was somewhat hesitant to tell me. When we sat down I started to heal my injured hand and Faran watched me magically knit the cut together with nervous puzzlement.

"What was going on back there?" he asked me.

"I uh, have an outstanding debt with the house," I lied. "This was the barman's way of reminding me I owe him." I gestured to my now fully recovered hand and Faran seemed to believe me. I guess I did look like the sort of man to be heavily in debt.

It turned out Faran wanted to know if I was going to join Greer's pack again. Apparently the tensions between Strenga, Greer and the rather sinister Frecca were getting more intense.

"The last two months...things have happened," Faran told me. "Wo came back last time – do you know him?"

"Yes, I know who he is," I admitted. Wo, 'the sorrowful one', was Anthony Driscoll the troubled werewolf I had met the full moon I was incarcerated by the ministry. He had unintentionally attacked his cousin, but they must have reconciled somehow because his cousin was also part of Greer's pack.

"He was...in a bad way," Faran said.

"How do you mean?" I pressed. Faran anxiously scratched his temple and I noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. I was surprised because he seemed too young to be married. But then maybe I was just old.

"He had some injuries. On his face and front legs. He wouldn't tell us where he'd got them from, but it must have been another..." Faran wouldn't say the word werewolf. Instead he glanced around to make sure no-one was listening.

"Does Greer still have control?" I asked.

"Yes, just about. But Strenga is getting more violent, and Frecca is egging him on all the time..." Faran looked very intently into my eyes and bit his lip. Greer's system must have provided Faran with a safe and secret way to manage his lycanthropy, as I'm sure it did for many of the werewolves in Greer's pack, and clearly Faran was afraid of loosing that safe and secret system.

"Do you know who any of the others really are?" I asked him. "Apart from Greer."

Faran shook his head, but then added: "Well, you."

"Yes, about that, how do you who I am?"

Faran looked a little sheepish and glanced around the pub, then he sighed and smiled.

"I'm a metamorphamagus," he said and my mouth dropped open. "Do you know what that means?"

"Yes!" I responded enthusiastically. "You can change your appearance at will."

"Yes, and um, I can also um – it's hard to explain. People have a feel – I feel things when I look at them..."

"No, I know what you mean!" Meeting another metamorphamagus was exciting enough, but one with the syneasthesia that Tonks had! It must be a trait of all metaorphamaguses.

"Do you?" Faran said mildly surprised.

"Yes, I know another metamorphamagus, and she's the same."

"Oh really? I've never met another before! You'll have to introduce me!" Faran said now as excited as I was. "Anyway, I'm getting off the point. You have a feel, and I recognised it."

"I see," I said. I thought of the feeling Tonks had when she looked at me, of warm sunshine on her skin. I wanted to know what Faran felt and if it was in any way similar. I sort hoped it wasn't. When Tonks told me how I felt to her it was special and I didn't want that spoilt. After a short internal battle though, curiosity got the better of me. "What do I feel like?"

Faran laughed lightly. "Everyone asks that. With, er, werewolves though it can be tricky. They sometimes feel like two people rather than one. It's still close to the full moon, so right now I can feel you and your alternate."

I smiled wryly. "Yes, I've been told that."

"The human you is like um," Faran glanced around the room for inspiration. "Like warm water. The werewolf you is, colder and more textured like um, moss."

So there was some similarity in what Tonks and Faran felt, but some idiosyncrasies as well.

"I'm sorry for being so nosey, but I have to ask," I continued. "If my alternate, as you put it, has a different feel to me – does yours have a different feel to your human self?"

"Yes it does. And I feel it pretty much constantly. It sort of interferes with the texture my human appearance has, and it's weakened my morphing ability." Faran looked quite heartbroken and I could understand. It was bad enough having the wolfs voice constantly in my head whispering taunts that fed my neuroses, to be able to constantly feel his presence like a texture on your skin would be horrible.

"Who are you? What's your real name?" I asked and Faran stroked his moustache obviously not keen to tell me. "You know mine, it's only fair." Faran nodded in agreement.

"Alright. My name is Rudolf Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" I was shocked. Though it did explain a few things. His wealth, his being in the Sleezy Wench.

"I take it you know my cousin Lucius then?" Rudolf said, sensing my surprise.

"I'm...acquainted with him yes."

"Then I'm sure you can imagine how a metamorphamagus is received in that family."

I recalled how often Mrs Black called Tonks a freak and it was all too easy.

"If they knew I was a werewolf..." Rudolf continued. "Well my life would be even more difficult than it already is. So I'd appreciate it if you kept my secret secret."

"Of course." Tonks and Sirius would be exceptions, but that was a given.

"So will you come? Next full moon? Greer would be glad to see you I think."

"Yes, I will come."


	68. The Poultry Have Betrayed Us

68 The Poultry Have Betrayed Us

The next full moon fell on the 4th of March, six days before my thirty fifth birthday. I spent the weeks leading up to it travelling around the country doing work for the Order. When I gave a report on what I had overheard at the Sleezy Wench Dumbledore seemed particularly disturbed by the news that Voldemort was planning a heist of some kind. He hardly said anything when I gave my report, he just sat quietly with his fingertips pressed together and his eyes staring at the table in front of him, but when I finished he flooded the Order with new missions and upped security around the prophecy. For the past few months, ever since Arthur was attacked, only those members of the Order who worked for the Ministry had been carrying out guard duty, but now Dumbledore wanted three guards on every shift, so we were all taking turns again. He also seemed very concerned that Dolohov and Bellatrix had been looking for a 'weapon' of James's, but he wouldn't explain why. Sirius had no idea what the 'weapon' was, James's wand had been destroyed duelling with Voldemort on the night that he died, and James had never used anything else to defend himself in a battle.

I'd also spent a lot of time furtively surveilling the, shall we say, less than reputable bars and haunts in London in the hope to find out more about Leohnard. I was anxious to know what work he was doing for Voldemort and how close he was to finding me, although I didn't communicate this to anyone, not even Tonks. In fact I didn't tell her about Leohnard at all. She already seemed worried enough that Dolohov wanted me dead. I told her about Rudolf though and she was as excited as I had expected. She asked me a barrage of questions about him, most of which I couldn't answer. "Does he feel different when he's poorly?" "Can he morph when he's a werewolf?" "Can he still feel appearances when he's a werewolf?" She was disappointed Rudolf was a Malfoy but it didn't dampen her desire to meet him so I agreed to try and arrange for the two of them to meet. It was too early to tell, but if he was trustworthy he could be a useful person for the Order to recruit.

The Order took up so much of my time, and Tonks's work took up so much of hers, that it was difficult to find time to spend together. We had dinner together at her flat a few times, and quite often she would come back to number twelve after work and sneak into bed with me, but I saw her far less than I would have liked. We didn't even get to spend Valentine's day together. Tonks was investigating a case in Cornwall and I was on guard duty all night. I returned to number twelve the next morning to find Tonks had left me a small gift. A tiny origami version of my patronus which flew around my room a bar of honeydukes in his paper talons. It was an exquisite rendering of my osprey patronus and must have taken Tonks ages to get the charm right to make it. I loved it, but felt awful that I hadn't given her a gift. I'd been so busy I'd simply forgotten about Valentine's day. I rectified this a day or two later. I was sitting in the living room one evening playing cards with Sirius and he gave me an idea.

"Harry wrote back to me by the way," Sirius informed me, while I demonstrated some extreme laziness and wandlessly summoned a new card from the deck sitting only a foot away from me.

"What news?"

"He seems alright, as alright as he can be anyway, but the occulmency is not going well. He doesn't feel like he's made any progress and Snape takes every opportunity he possibly can to bully Harry," Sirius reported with a sour look. "I really don't know what Dumbledore was thinking asking Snape to teach Harry. Snape hates Harry. And he's an absolutely atrocious teacher!"

I sighed. "He is a very good Occulmens..."

"But that means nothing if you can't teach. It's Harry we need to be the good Occulmens, not Snape," argued Sirius. I nodded glumly. It was a valid point.

"Are you sure you couldn't teach him?" Sirius asked hopefully.

"I would if I could Pads, but I've never successfully performed occulmency, I only know the theory," Sirius sighed with disappointment.

"He also told me that Umbridge is still a domineering harpy. Harry's still banned from playing quidditch and she's recruited students to try and find out about his secret defence against the dark arts classes. She's none the wiser though."

"Good."

"Oh, and Harry's been having women trouble." Sirius smirked and there was a hint of pride in eyes.

"Oh?" I chuckled.

"Apparently he had a Valentine's date that didn't go very well. He didn't give me any details, but he asked me if all women expect you to know what they are thinking without telling you."

I gave a hearty laugh. "What was your reply?"

"I just told him 'when in doubt, buy flowers'. I didn't know what else to suggest."

I laughed again. I couldn't think of a relationship of Sirius's which hadn't ended in him getting hexed – apart from his relationship with Sienna of course – so he wasn't exactly the best person to give Harry advice on matters of romance.

"Why do you think Harry's not making more use of James's mirror?" Sirius asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when he sent me his letter I remembered that I'd given him the mirror and wondered why he didn't just use that to contact me. I tried to contact him on it, but I got nothing. I figured it must be in his trunk or something, because when I connected all I could see was darkness."

"Maybe he's forgotten he has it," I suggested, but it was then that a belated Valentine's gift idea occurred to me, one that would enable Tonks and I to keep in contact when we were working on opposite sides of the country. I enchanted a pair of small leather bound notebooks bought from a muggle stationer so that when a message was written in one it would appear in the other and fade away once it was read. I kept one notebook and gave the other to Tonks.

On the night of the full moon she made use of our new way of communicating. Just like last time I met Greer at the pub near the outskirts of the Sheffield suburb where he lived, then the two of us walked the few miles into the forrest to the werewolves's meeting place. Since my last visit in December, the forest had transformed. Whereas back then it had been dull, bare and frosty, now the forrest floor was an ocean of bluebells and snowdrops getting ready to great the spring. Droplets of evening due clung to their coloured heads and stained my trousers as I walked through them. Greer walked ahead of me, barefoot and seemingly carefree; he brushed his hands against the trees as he walked past them, as if marking them with his scent. We had been walking for about forty minutes, and my muscles and bones were starting to ache, so I knew we were close to the clearing. I looked behind me towards the city and the setting sun, and felt a flurry of nerves. I wasn't as apprehensive as the first time but if Strenga and Frecca were causing as much trouble as Feran had suggested then things could get rough. I was probably much safer facing a pack of angry werewolves in my wolf's body than as a human, but the idea of going into battle without being able to do magic still made me nervous. It was then that I received Tonks's message. I took the notebook from my pocket to read it.

_Keep safe my love. _

It was the first time she had used the word 'love' in reference to me. It scared me a little, but I couldn't help affectionally running my fingers over the word as the ink faded away. I put the notebook away as Greer and I reached the clearing.

"I'm glad you are joining us again Lerian," Greer said as he bent down and picked a bluebell. "It is good to have a wolf like you in the pack." Greer put the bluebell to his nose and inhaled its scent. I could understand why. Just before a transformation a werewolf's sense of smell tends to get stronger and the smell of the bluebells was intoxicatingly pleasant.

"A wolf like me?" I asked Greer. "What sort of wolf am I?"

"You are thoughtful and calm," Greer replied, twirling the bluebell in his fingers. "The others need an example like that, especially now."

"Because of the fights between Strenga and the others you mean?"

Greer nodded and then he screwed up his nose and made a weird squeaking noise. "It's not just that."

I got the impression he wanted to tell me what had been going on but was afraid to, perhaps because he still didn't really trust me. A breeze blew through the clearing. Branches clattered against each other and leaves rustled. Paired with the noise was a spasm between my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes and groaned. When I opened my eyes I saw Greer rubbing the back of his neck. He'd felt it too.

"Wo returned to us last month," said Greer quickly. "He had been travelling. He looked terrible. Lots of cuts and scratches. He wouldn't tell us what had happened to him, but I knew he'd seen Greyback."

"Greyback?" Fear and loathing bristled within me. "Do you know where he is? Why did he hurt Anthony?"

"No, it wasn't Greyback that hurt him, it was wizards," Greer said as if the idea of a werewolf hurting another werewolf was preposterous.

"Wizards?"

"Yes, I asked him what had happened to him you see. He told me some wizards had captured him and tortured him while he was transformed."

"Did he know who?"

"No, when he turned back into a man the next morning he couldn't remember any of their faces. He'd been left alone in the middle of nowhere and had to walk for miles before he found anyone to help him."

"Where does Greyback come into it?"

"Greyback was the one who found Wo. Who helped him. He told Wo about his plans."

"What plans?"

"He's trying to rally the werewolves. He's tempting them away with promises of glory and revenge. He told Wo that he would be able to get revenge on the wizards that hurt him if he joined him. He's been speaking to the others too, Strenga and Frecca. That's why I need you. Greyback thinks only of killing. I need a wolf like you to show the others that violence isn't the only way. That there is more to being a werewolf than killing."

I clenched my teeth. The apprehension I had felt dissipated and determination took its place. Greer had spent his life caving out a peaceful way for werewolves to live, if the world was ever going to see werewolves in a different light it would be men like Greer who show them. I _had_ to help him, I couldn't let Greyback destroy everything Greer had worked so hard to build. A hatred for Greyback flooded through my body along with a rush of pain as the transformation started. Realising that the sun had set Greer left me to transform alone.

Only seven wolves met at the clearing this time, including myself and Greer. Feran was there and the only wolf to greet me with a friendly bark. The fearsome Strenga and the small pale wolf whom I knew to be Anthony Driscoll's muggle cousin were there too, as was Anthony Driscoll himself, or Wo as he was called by Greer. He looked as awful as Feran and Greer had said: very thin, his fur had fallen out in places, and he had cuts and grazes all over his front legs and face. I tried to say hello, but he refused to meet my eyes. I initially thought this was because he didn't recognise me, so I walked over to him and howled softly thinking that he might recognise my voice. But he just turned his face away and flicked his ears back. I cautiously stepped a little closer, so that we attained a proximity that would have made me very uncomfortable had we both been in human form. Anthony stepped away then lay down on the ground with his head looking in the opposite direction. He would certainly have recognised my scent so his refusal to greet me was deliberate. I could smell traces of wolfsbane on his fur, but the scent wasn't as strong as Feran so he was taking medication but not the full dose. The last wolf there was one who had been there last time, but whose name I didn't know. He growled threateningly at me as I passed, but not with nearly as much venom as Strenga. Strenga's blood coloured eyes followed me constantly and whenever I got too close to him he'd snap his jaws at me. He didn't go further than warning snaps however, perhaps because Greer would have rebuked him if he bit me. Strenga was an enormous wolf, bigger than all the others, but I got the impression he had more brawn than bravery, and wouldn't dare defy Greer without Frecca there to encourage him, and Frecca was notably absent.

Like last time I tried not to get in any wolf's way or otherwise draw attention to myself. I made my main objective to observe and gage the feeling amongst the pack. It was uneasy to say the least. Greer

commenced his regimen of expeditions through the forrest and hunts for deer that usually kept the wolves's rampant lust for blood in check. Just like last time I found myself nothing short of astounded at the level of self control and rationality Greer manage to retain without _any_ wolfsbane. Even with wolfsbane _I_ could still feel the anger and hunger for violence lurking in the back of my mind yearning to break free. Greer must have been exceptionally gifted in self control. His system of keeping werewolves together when they transform was also a brilliant idea. The Ministry's warnings that if werewolves were allowed to form packs they'd storm towns and rampage across the country, and their policy of locking them in private cages was complete nonsense; werewolves were _less_ dangerous when they were together, Greer had proven that beyond a doubt. Greyback's influence was present though. Strenga repeatedly made reference to him and how he, unlike Greer, would have let him go to the village and take revenge on the humans that lived there. Greer pointedly took no notice of Strenga's discontented roars, but it made all the other wolves twitch their ears and flex their claws uncomfortably. All except Wo that is.

Wo spent most of the night lagging behind the others, refusing to make eye contact or join in in any of the games or hunts. Even the little pale wolf, Wo's cousin, who spent all of his time following either Greer or Wo very closely couldn't stir a reaction from Wo. When the pack stopped by the river in the deepest part of the forrest I tried again to communicate with him.

He was sat on the opposite side of the river to everyone else staring up at the milky full moon creating an almost comically cliched image. I waded through a shallow part of the river to join him. When I got to the other side I shook the water off my paws and little of the water splashed onto his coat so he turned sharply to me and growled. I barked hello. In response Wo stood up and snarled at me.

"What do you want from me?" he seemed to say.

"To help," I replied, sitting down so as to appear unthreatening.

"I don't want your help." Wo snarled again and swiped his claws through the air, warning me not to bother him.

"If you are struggling in the human world I can help with that," I told him – which was quite difficult to say without a proper language.

"How? How could a poor disgraced professor help me?" Wo raised his hackles and stared at me through acrid yellow eyes.

"Who hurt you?" I asked looking at the cuts across his face. "Greer said you don't remember, but that's not true." Wo's yellow eyes continued to stare but he made no sign or gesture to indicate that I was incorrect. After a few moments he turned away and walked along the river bank towards the shadow of a large oak tree. I chased after him and snapped at his hind feet to get his attention. Again I meant it to be unthreatening, but Wo took offence. He roared at me and whacked his paw against my face. I hastily retreated while Greer barked angrily from the other side of the river.

I barked back. "It's okay, it was my fault!" I left Wo on his own under the oak tree and walked back across the river to the others. As I stepped into the cold water and began to wade across I looked down. I froze with shock when I saw my own reflection in the slow moving water. I'd seen myself in a transformed state before. I can't recall any particular occasion but I'd seen myself a few times while I was living in Oxford. I usually spent the full moon curled up on the rug by the fire, but sometimes it would take me quite a while to fall asleep so I would wonder around the the attic apartment stretching my recently transformed limbs and occasionally I saw my reflection in the glass front of the little muggle oven in the kitchen. I always tried my best to avoid looking, so my acquaintance with what I looked like was vague at best. I had a rough idea of my size and the shape of my muzzle, but I was oblivious to the details. Sirius had told me once or twice then when transformed I was 'terrifying' and in truth I never really wanted to find out whether that was an accurate description. When I saw my reflection in the water though I couldn't look away. My eyes were about the only thing I recognised. An orange-yellow colour staring out from deep black sockets nestled in a face of thin grey fur. The scar that ran over my nose when I was in my human form was visible as a whitish streak and I had a fresh cut across my cheek from where Wo had hit me. I opened my mouth slightly and saw sharp inch-long yellow teeth set into to red gums shining with saliva. What frightened me most though wasn't the size of my teeth, or the general monstrous nature of the animal looking at me from the surface of the river; what frightened most was the fact that when I intended to move my mouth, the mouth of the monster moved, when I intended to turn my face to the left, the face of the monster moved. The ghastly creature in the reflection was _me_.

"You're doing a good thing," Tonks told me a day later, "spending the full moon with Greer I mean."

We were walking arm in arm through borough market, an eclectic and colourful muggle food market near London Bridge station.

"You think so?" Tonks paused as we walked past a rather glorious looking display of seafood. Cod, place, prawns, seabass and a host of other species rested on a bed of ice decorated with shells, parsley and one or two occtopusses. Tonks gave an 'oooh' of delight and went to inspect the tentacles. I grinned and watched a muggle peer into a tank of live lobsters and indicate to the fish monger which one he wanted to buy. A gaggle of tourists headed in my direction, their flashy cameras held aloft, so I quickly darted out of their path. Tonks was now gazing at the sardines with a distinctly hungry look on her face. I seized her hand to get her attention.

"Yes," she said smiling at me and giving my hand an affectionate squeeze. "It sounds like they need someone like you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a good leader, even if you don't realise it. And you can help them. Like Greer said, you can show them that violence is not the only way. Bloody Hell look at all that cheese!"

I laughed as Tonks dragged me by the hand over to the impressive collection of stalls selling cheese from all corners of the muggle world. One of the vendors grabbed Tonks's attention by commenting on her electric blue hair. He offered her some cheese to try so she let go of my hand to take a small piece of comte. While Tonks asked the vendor where the cheese came from I watched the muggles flit around the stalls, oohing and aahing at the produce, and filling their shopping bags. I turned back to Tonks when I heard the vendor tell her "for a beautiful girl like yourself I'll sell it for a pound". Perhaps he was just flirting to make a sale but I still didn't like it. I put my arm around Tonks's waist and kissed her cheek. The vendor looked a little surprised. Tonks bought the cheese then insisted we buy some bread to go with it. While we were selecting a french baguette I saw something unexpected.

Strolling casually amongst the stalls in a leather biker jacket and my black jeans was a very calm looking Sirius Black.

"Excuse me," I said to Tonks and, with my mouth hanging open, I walked over to Sirius. Sirius jumped when he saw me and his face became a picture of guilt. For a second he looked like he was actually going to run away from me.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" I demanded. Sirius grimaced.

"Shopping?" He offered.

"You are supposed to be in hiding!" I hissed grabbing Sirius by the arm and glancing nervously at the muggles that surrounded us. They would definitely notice if I dissaparated with him.

"I know, I know," Sirius said sheepishly.

"Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be here? What if someone recognises you?" I chastised. Sirius petulantly tugged his arm away from me.

"Chill out Remus."

"Chill out? Am I the only one who values your life?"

"It's fine Remus," Sirius insisted putting his hand on my shoulder to try and placate me.

"What-"

"Look around you. Any Dementors? Any muggles screaming with fear?"

I glanced around. Sirius was quite right, most of the muggles weren't paying us any attention whatsoever, and the ones that were, were young women looking at Sirius with expressions of longing.

"No-one recognises me," Sirius assured me. "I've not been on the muggle news for months, they've _completely_ forgotten about me. As long as I stay in muggle areas I'm perfectly safe."

"How many times have you done this?" I asked. Sirius gave me a sheepish grin and I suddenly realised that this wasn't the first sneaky trip out to muggle London Sirius had taken. I was aghast. Not only because Sirius had been knowingly risking his life, but also because he hadn't told me! All those years we'd spent taking secret passages out of Hogwarts as teenagers, and now he was breaking the rules without me...

"A fair few times Remus," Sirius admitted.

"And you never told me?"

"Because I thought you'd try and convince me not to do it. You'd be worried about me getting my soul sucked out." Sirius gave a nonchalant shrug while I stared at him with incredulity. It took me a few minutes to process this surprising new information. While the minutes passed Sirius winked at a passing muggle who seemed nothing short of delighted to receive his attention.

"It's not just that, Sirius. You know a vast amount of Order secrets... If the enemy spotted you..." I whispered. Sirius just hushed me. Then Tonks joined us looking just as surprised as I had felt, only Tonks couldn't say anything because she had already started to eat the bread she had bought and her mouth was full.

"Siiruu! Waa oo uri ur!" she garbled at Sirius. Sirius gave Tonks the same justification he had given me and while Tonks looked worried she couldn't deny that Sirius was quite right to point out that no-one seemed the slightest bit perturbed by his presence. I was still a bit apprehensive but as neither Tonks nor I could see any immediate danger, the three of us wondered around the market for a bit longer. We marvelled at the glorious colours, smells and tastes of the produce on offer, bought a few more bits and pieces, then had a picnic lunch by Tower Bridge. It was still a bit cold, but the sun was shining and casting a lovely golden glow over the bridge. We spent most of the afternoon there discussing various matters. Things got interesting when Sirius brought out a copy of the Quibbler. Not a magazine he normally carried around with him, but he assured us that there was a very interesting article in it that month. He handed the magazine to me. Tonks, who had been resting her head in my lap, sat up to read over my shoulder.

"Gosh!" I exclaimed when I saw the article. It seemed Harry had taken it upon himself to publicise the truth about Voldemort's return by giving an 'exclusive, in depth interview' with the Quibbler. I grinned with pride at Harry's boldness and initiative. Tonks and I read the article and while parts of it were harrowing, reminding us of just what awful things poor Harry had seen, that only made Harry's actions braver and more admirable.

"This is brilliant," Tonks remarked. "I mean, it's unfortunate it's in the Quibbler..." She gave a grimace to Sirius who reciprocated her expression of mockery.

"Yes, I suppose, I mean it's not really going to help Harry convince the world that he's not crazy," said Sirius. "The Quibbler is a bit of a nutty magazine."

"True, but the things Harry's saying..." I said pointing to the page. "Some people reading this will see that what Harry's saying makes more sense than any of the tales Fudge has been spinning. Everyone is still asking about the Azkaban escape – why the Death Eaters suddenly found it so easy. For many Harry's explanation will seem terrifying but credible."

Sirius nodded in agreement and I gave him back the magazine. As I reached over to hand it to him, my jacket hitched up my arm, revealing my wrist. As Sirius took the magazine, Tonks grabbed my wrist. She held it firmly and carefully examined it. I frowned and Sirius looked at Tonks with a similar expression of puzzlement.

"You have a scar on your wrist," Tonks said apparently bemused. I suddenly felt very hot. She ran her fingers gently along the three inch long scar that ran up the underside of my wrist.

"I have lots. You know that..." I mumbled hoping she'd just assume this scar was another full moon injury. She didn't.

"This one's different. It was healed by magic. You can hardly see it really, it's just the light caught it... How did you do it?"

She looked up at me with a flicker of concern in her eyes. I pulled my arm away from her. Sirius also looked at me with his mouth slightly open as if ready to give Tonks some excuse on my behalf. He'd clearly realised where I'd got the scar from.

"Ah it's nothing," I said lightly tugging my jacket back over my wrist. She looked a bit puzzled and glanced at Sirius, who gave a very subtle shrug. Tonks licked her lips but didn't say anything, instead she smiled kindly and looped her arm around mine. Sirius cleared his throat to rid the air of any tension then suggested we head back to headquarters. There was an Order meeting later that night and Sirius needed to be back at number twelve before any of them arrive lest they realise he'd been out.

When they did arrive many of them sought Sirius out for advice on some matter or other. This was pretty typical, especially among members of the Order who weren't in the Order during the last war. Bill, Emmeline, Fleur and a few others would often come to Sirius for his opinion on some behaviour they'd seen or a Death Eater they'd discovered. To be equitable, I was also consulted by the others, but the Order usually came to me with questions about magical theory and occasionally duelling – Sirius was seen as the more expert in matters of military strategy. I think Sirius quite liked being seen as an expert, but any positive feeling he had towards that role was outweighed by his frustration at not being able to do any work in the field as it were.

"It's all very well being everyone's consultant I want to be out there doing stuff," he told me after Fleur had come asking how he thought Death Eaters might infiltrate the French Ministry for Magic. I nodded sympathetically and made an amendment to my report for the meeting later that night. Bill and Arthur entered the kitchen at that moment and I was distracted from my report by Fleur emitting a happy squeak as Bill pulled her into his arms. Sirius and Sturgis who'd been sitting at the table with me also looked up and Tonks, who had been making herself a cup of tea asked Fleur to explain her disproportionate merriment. Fleur explained that Bill had been in Egypt for the last two weeks.

"I heard some very strange rumours while I was out there – but it's all in my report," Bill added as he squeezed Fleur's waist. While the others began to discuss Egypt, Sirius turned to me.

"Will you tell Tonks how you got that scar?" he whispered. I looked at him through narrowed eyes to try and discern his meaning. Sirius gestured subtly towards my wrist, but I knew that's what he was talking about, what I was unsure about was why he was asking if I was going to tell Tonks.

"I probably will," I replied quietly. "But in my own time." Sirius nodded and scratched his nose thoughtfully.

"I want to show you something."

I looked up from my notes again and watched Sirius walk towards the cabinet that housed the Black family china. He bent down and pulled a role of parchment from one of the cupboards. I noticed Tonks and Bill glance at Sirius with interest.

"I want to show you now before the meeting, just in case...well just to see what you think." Sirius put the parchment on the table and I pushed away my notes. Sirius unrolled the parchment and tapped it with his wand to flatten it so that it wouldn't roll back. It turned out to be map drawn in purple ink, an incomplete map it seemed as there were a number of blank patches and all the towns were unlabelled. Even without the labels I recognised the map as a map of South Oxfordshire. The map also showed the wizarding village of Isisford and the magically hidden forrest which started just outside the Oxford ringroad and continued towards Watlington. I could see that whoever made the map was skilled at magic as they had embedded two, perhaps even three, other maps within the ink lines; the pin-size freckles of discolouration in the ink, that were only visible on close inspection, evinced the hidden layers to the map. I guessed that the map had been stolen and had probably been made by suspected Death Eaters, otherwise why would Sirius be interested in it. In the last war the Order had discovered a Death Eater passcode that Death Eaters could use to reveal hidden messages in documents; the map didn't look that old, the parchment was in good condition and the ink hadn't faded, so I knew the map wasn't a leftover from the last war, but the other side never found out that the Order had discovered the passcode so there could be a chance they still used it.

"The passcode might still be Stuhi," I said and Sirius grinned.

"To reveal the other layers you mean?"

I nodded and Sirius laughed.

"Bloody Hell Remus it took me an hour to work out there were hidden layers!"

"I do not understand," said Fleur whose rose coloured lips were puckered with confusion. The others too were looking towards Sirius and I with bemused expressions.

"Don't worry Fleur," Bill assured. "Sirius and Remus often speak in a kind of code."

"It's a map of Oxfordshire." "Sorry, it's a Death Eater's map." Sirius and I said at the same time.

"Yes we can see that, what's 'Stuhi' all about?" Tonks interjected impatiently.

"Stuhi is an old Death Eater passcode," Sirius explains. "Remus worked out in about three seconds that this map has hidden layers to it, other maps I mean. But Stuhi isn't the passcode, Moony. In fact I don't think the Death Eaters use that one anymore."

"Well, I suppose that's to be expected."

"Emmeline had to, uh, use her peculiar charms to find out, but the passcode they are using at the moment is _araignee_." As Sirius gave the passcode he touched his wand to the map and the purple lines of ink wiggled and slithered over the parchment to form a new map, one that featured various geographical and geological features, one or two slates mines, a few caves, where clay gave over to chalk and that sort of thing.

"Araignee is French," Fleur said with surprise.

"For spider," added Tonks.

"Yes, Emmeline has a theory about that but it'll have to wait until she get's back from Brazil," said Sirius. "Anyway...I've been pouring over this version, the one with all the stuff about rocks, and I think I've found something have a look here by this underground reservoir in the forrest."

"I don't see anything," said Tonks. I squinted at the part of the map that Sirius had indicated but also couldn't see anything.

"Here," Sirius said and again he tapped on the part of the forest just by the reservoir. I shook my head, still not seeing anything, but then suddenly I noticed something odd. The trees in the forrest were not actually trees at all but small silhouettes of people contorted into weird positions that resembled trees from a distance. I conjured a magnifying glass to get a closer look. The tiny ink figures seemed to be writhing around as if trying to escape. It was a very strange sight and for a moment I wondered if it was some kind of sick Death Eater joke: trees made out of muggles being tortured or something equally vile. But the image seemed oddly familiar

"I feel like I've seen this sort of thing before..."

"You remember when we were making the map and we were trying to get people to show up only when it was useful instead of all the time and at one point we managed to hide the irrelevant people in the walls but they kept trying to break free and you could still sort of see them."

"Oh yes, we had to dip the map in a humility potion," I replied.

"Exactly. I reckon there are little people in the trees because the Death Eaters are trying to do something similar – trying to hide the figures perhaps. Now I thought, what if those figures in the trees are Death Eaters themselves. Perhaps they want the map to show people in the area, muggles or the Order, to help them keep watch, but they don't want to the map to reveal their own whereabouts, so they are trying to hide the figures of themselves in the trees. But they've not thought of the humility potion yet, so the mini-Death Eater figures are still trying to reveal themselves. If the Death Eaters have a hideout in Oxfordshire, then I'd bet that's where we should look."

"Brilliant. I'm impressed."

Sirius grinned triumphantly and his cheeks went ever so slightly pink.

"Where'd you get the map from?" Tonks asked.

"Mad-Eye. He intercepted a courier leaving Borgin and Burks and this was amongst the items to be delivered. The courier is being held in the garden and Mad-Eye reckon's we have about a week before the Death Eaters suspect their courier may have got waylaid."

"The courier is in the garden?! How? Who is it?" asked Bill

"Oh it's not a person, it's a chicken."

A few of us laughed and Sirius smirked.

"A chicken seriously?" said Tonks

"Yes, the poultry have betrayed us, they're working for Voldemort now."

"I remember in the last war Death Eaters used to transmit information by shrinking documents then putting them inside little pellets and feeding them to migrating birds," said Arthur with an impish grin to rival any marauder. "I pity the Death Eaters who had to scour through bird droppings to get their messages!"

"This system is not far off that one Arthur," explained Sirius. "The chicken was one among a few beings transported to a potions brewer in Durham. The map, along with a few other messages that Mad-Eye has, was shrunk and disguised as the chicken's identity tag. Like all the normal identity tags it's magically linked to the chicken so would self-destruct if it and the chicken were separated by more than twenty feet. So we had to kidnap the chicken."

"So you think we should look for a Death Eater hideout in the Oxfordshire forrest?" asked Tonks just as another Order member entered the kitchen, stooping slightly as he came through the kitchen door.

"Yeah," said Sirius confidently not noticing Albus Dumbledore tread softly towards the kitchen table where the rest of us where gathered. "You think it's worth telling Dumbledore Remus?" Sirius added to me, but there was no need for me to answer.

"It certainly seems so Sirius," Dumbledore said himself, making Sirius as well as Tonks and Fleur who had also not noticed Dumbledore's arrival start with surprise. "Do you think you could give a report in today's meeting. I'd be very interested to hear what you've made of the map, I remember you became quite the expert in magical maps at school, much to Mr Filch's dismay." Dumbledore's pale blue eyes twinkled and Sirius looked sheepish.

"Yes, of course," Sirius said politely.

"Excellent," beamed Dumbledore as he fiddled with the lapel of his crushed velvet robes. "I have to return to Hogwarts very promptly today so it would be very helpful if we could start the meeting as soon as possible. Is it being held in here?"

"No in the dining room upstairs, it's a bit of a tip in here," said Sirius gesturing to the unwashed plates and cups of stagnant tea that littered every surface of the kitchen.

"Mm, I suppose it is looking a little bit like an experimental potions laboratory," remarked Dumbledore whimsically.

"Shall we head up then?" suggested Arthur, "the others wont be long."

"Yes, go ahead I will join you in a moment," Dumbledore said causally, although his remark was generally understood to be more of a command than a suggestion. Everyone, including myself stood up and stepped towards the kitchen door, but then Dumbledore added: "I just need to speak to Remus in private before the meeting." I stopped walking and turned around. Dumbledore smiled warmly as if to tell me that there was nothing to worry about. I immediately started worrying. It turned out Dumbledore had found employment for me. Apparently Flourish and Blotts needed a new copyeditor for their fortnightly magazine. It was a dull job, but the pay was decent enough. However, there was something in Dumbledore's manner of speaking that suggested he wanted me to take the job for some hidden purpose.

"It would be good for you to work there Remus." Dumbledore tapped his fingers lightly on a parchment containing the details of the position and whom I should write to about accepting it. "I've sent references along already. There will be a short interview, but you're amply qualified." Dumbledore looked up from the parchment he had been determinedly staring at and cast his piecing blue eyes over me. I'd been silent for rather a long time and I took it that silence was no longer appropriate.

"Thank you," I said then I waited, wondering if Dumbledore would tell me _why_ it would be good for me to work there. Was there someone at Flourish and Blotts he wanted me to watch? But Dumbledore didn't tell me and I didn't ask. As an operative of the Order I'd grown accustomed to only knowing a small part of a grand plan that perhaps only Dumbledore was cognisant of. Dumbledore did give me one instruction though.

"The editor at Flourish and Blotts doesn't know about your condition and I think you should try your best to keep him in ignorance," said Dumbledore.

"Do you want me to lie?" I asked. Dumbledore considered me for a moment then gave a small wry smile.

"In short, yes," Dumbledore said, which removed any shadow of doubt that Dumbledore wanted me to take the job as part of a mission. "You are very good at concealing the truth without actually lying Remus. A skill perhaps you developed as a result of being a naturally honest person required to cover up for misbehaving friends," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a little and he raised an eyebrow at me, I smiled sheepishly, "make use of that skill and avoid lying if you can. But if he asks, then I do want you to lie."

Dumbledore looked away from me and instead focussed his attention on a jumper Sirius had left hanging off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I watched the old man carefully. His movements were causal but deliberately so. He was waiting for me to accept, and I got the feeling that perhaps it wasn't really in my interest to do so. But I didn't join the Order to serve my own interests, which were not important when compared to the goals the Order were trying to achieve.

"Alright," I said swallowing my sense of trepidation. "I'll write to them tomorrow."

"Good," Dumbledore said with finality. He took a step towards the kitchen door but then stopped and turned back. "Oh one more thing before we go up to the meeting, am I correct in thinking that you and Miss Tonks are an item now?"

I felt myself blush. Dumbledore knew bloody everything.

"Er..." I mumbled and Dumbledore smiled. Apparently my reddened cheeks were answer enough.

"Mind you treat her well Remus, she's a good match for you."


End file.
